


From the Cradle

by Bitter_Rabbit, magic__mind



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Again, Because of Reasons, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Kid Fic, L and Light have a kid, M/M, Mello and Near have one too, Shenanigans, but some serious-ish moments too?, crackish for sure, named Junior Winston Yagami Lawliet, named Sargon Nathaniel Kheel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6455296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitter_Rabbit/pseuds/Bitter_Rabbit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic__mind/pseuds/magic__mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows L and Light, and Near and Mello, through the tribulations of parenthood. Along the way, their children grow, play, learn...and fall in love. Fic told in a series of short episodes, outside of chronological order. Utter, utter crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fairytale Bedtime Story

**Author's Note:**

> BC3 (Bitter_Rabbit here on AO3, but also known as bratchild3) and I come bearing Death Note fic! This one is decidedly lighthearted (we laugh a LOT while we write it). This was posted some time ago on FF.net but we have since taken it up again (with two more installments 90% completed at the time of this posting). L and Light are raising a baby and eventually Near and Mello will too. Their kids will be growing up together! Lots of things in store here. Because the fic is so full of "events," we have broken things up into "episodes." Each episode will be a chapter, and each will stand alone. But they will fit into a larger narrative as well. 
> 
> The episodes will not always be in chronological order! Things will bounce around, so be prepared for that. Each chapter will state how old Junior (and later, Sargon) is at the time, however. 
> 
> As for warnings, right now nothing explicit, but things will definitely get that way in later installments. And some will be purely G-rated fluff, too. Anything and everything, people. But hopefully all entertaining!

**Junior: Age 4 months**

"Light-kun," L said for the second time that night. "Do you hear that noise?"

 

From the opposite side of the bed, L heard an indistinguishable mumbling which tapered off into the heavy breathing of sleep. His eyes slide from the glowing laptop monitor to Light and rolled his eyes.

 

It was 1:31 in the morning. L could understand Light was tired, but they had both agreed before getting themselves into this that they would share the responsibilities fifty-fifty.

 

L pulled out one of the Serta pillows piled behind him and whacked Light over the head a few times, which unfortunately didn't get much of a reaction.

 

"This noise," L said, louder. He grabbed the baby monitor off the side-table and held it to Light's ear. "is the sound that your son makes sometimes. He requires your assistance."

 

Light was having a terrible dream. There was some kind of....walking rectangle that was floating around his head....no matter what he did or where he tried to run, it followed him. And it was emitting this terrible, horrible....wailing sound. A wailing that was so pronounced, and so incessant, that any peace left to him at this juncture of his dream life was being sucked away before his eyes.

 

Also, there was L. Joy.

 

Also also - Light KNEW this wasn't a dream. He had begun the practice of lucid dreaming at age 9 and so he was quite aware of what the wailing really was. The four-month-old just down the hallway. The one that L had somehow convinced him to raise cooperatively.

 

Light rolled over and slowly pushed the baby monitor away from the vicinity of his rapidly decaying eardrum. "Miracle of miracles, I am actually aware of that crying, L. This is what I look like when it's your turn to 'assist' him and get rid of it."

 

L thrust the monitor back toward him. "It is your turn, Light-kun. I dealt with it the last time. He needed a diaper and now I am sure he needs a bottle of chocolate milk. Do not starve him or his brain may not develop properly. Also, he may never grow teeth and then you will have to chew all his meals for him."

 

Light sighed. This was so typical. "Yes, L." he said slowly. Patiently. "I am also aware that you dealt with it the last time. But I am ALSO aware of the schedule we drew up three weeks ago, when it was mutually decided that taking immediate turns was too taxing on us, as it required our activities to constantly be interrupted. Like my sleeping is being interrupted now. We decided then (as I recall with my photographic memory) that we would take turns in days. You have this day. It is on the calendar - signed and dated - in the kitchen if you care to challenge me."

 

L's eyelids and the monitor drooped simultaneously. Of course Light was right about that; L simply was hoping that he would be too taxed for rationality and get up anyway. Like he had every other night it was L's turn for the past two weeks.

 

"That is fine, Light-kun. Go ahead and sleep." He snapped his laptop closed and pushed it toward the foot of the bed. "But do not blame me when he grows up and has no idea who you are. Subconsciously he will remember that I was the one who always came to the rescue in the night time."

 

Light stretched out and nestled himself more deeply into his pillow, making a deliberate show of his contentment. "Yes, dear genius detective. And he will remember that I was the one who came to rescue him from your 'rescues.'" Light said sleepily. "I saw that diaper job you did last time...it's a wonder the nursery isn't covered in urine."

 

Ah, sleep. Finally. Glorious...heavenly....

 

Light suddenly remembered an earlier part of the conversation.

 

"And L?" he yelled, as L was walking out the door of their bedroom. Out of his peripheral vision, Light saw L shoot him a look of sarcastically polite inquiry - those eyebrows of his rising a good three inches. "Don't you dare give that baby chocolate milk. We DO want him to have teeth. The sugar will disintegrate them."

 

L gave a slight bow and turned away. "You do not have a say so when it is I who is getting a bottle, your highness," he said to himself, padding down the hallway and into the next room.

 

He didn't bother with the light switch; the room was aglow with a soft green of a Play School aquarium Light's sister, Sayu, had attached to the whitewashed bars of the crib. It was supposed to sooth the child to sleep, but Junior had unfortunately inherited L's sleeping patterns and wasn't much for resting during the late hours.

 

The baby stopped fussing the moment L peered over the railing, his fists flailing and teddybear-bootied feet kicking excitedly. He was a pretty baby. All Light with perfectly symmetrical features and a bit of soft brown cinnamon colored hair. Nothing about him looked like L-- except the eyes. Black as soot and abnormally large.

 

"I know what the problem is." L said, softly. "You do not need to sleep more than you are awake like someone we both know. You would rather be having some cake and hacking into international databases with me, wouldn't you?"

 

L scooped the child into his arms and started toward the kitchen. Inside the refrigerator was a jug of baby formula-homemade, at Light's insistence--and an array of bottles with pre-measured amounts. L chose a light yellow one with smiling strawberries speckled down the sides and bounced Junior lightly as it warmed in the microwave. Next he pulled out the Nes-Quick canister and poured in a teaspoon or so.  Light-kun need never know.

 

Junior was sucking the contents down greedily when L reentered his and Light's room. L climbed onto the bed and settled the baby against Light's side, using his ribcage to prop the bottle up. He then pulled open his laptop pulled it back into position.

 

Through the haze of his half-sleep, Light could feel something squishy and abnormally warm against his left side. This was unusual, as L was neither squishy nor warm (except in a non-physical sense. Occasionally.) There was only one other human whose presence it could be, and Light didn't need the half of his brain that was sleeping to know who it was. The plastic bottle wedged between his third and fourth ribs was also a clue.

 

In spite of himself, Light was glad that L had decided to bring Junior back in with him. He would trade many sleepless nights for time spent his new son - and had already given L many sleepless ones in the past. (While he was on the subject, Light made a mental note that they were far past due for another such night, and decided to phone Sayu tomorrow and call in a favor of babysitting.)

 

For now though....Light gently turned so that his son wouldn't be disturbed in his feeding, and propped himself up on one elbow. With his other hand, he lifted the bottle (L had a pronounced fondness for the strawberry one, which is why Light bought it) and let Junior continue on more easily in his midnight meal.

 

"Light-kun decides to wake for his son now, I see. He is fickle." L noted, eyes still on his laptop screen.

 

"Not fickle..." Light said. "Just....charmed." And for the moment, he didn't care if L could see the emotion in his eyes when he looked at him.

 

"Then Light-kun may change his charming diaper when he is through, as I am 100% certain he will need a new one. Things were feeling a trifle squishy on the way back up."

 

Light sighed and turned his eyes toward Junior, whose bottle was already nearly empty. He was kicking his feet merrily - happy with the milk and happier still at the sound of L's voice.

 

"Your father noticed squishiness in your diaper and did nothing about it." Light said to his son seriously. "I trust you will remember this in your teenage years, when you pick which parent you want to rebel against more."

 

"Unfortunately for you, that was already decided," L said, now tapping the keys. "Junior and discussed it last week. I give him chocolate and you do not. I also let him stay up when you force him into solitary confinement in that cell you call a nursery."

 

 "Ah....discussed it, did you?" Light said, gently removing the now empty bottle from the baby's mouth and setting it on the nightstand. "I do hope the decision was made with great concern and care, as well as all due fairness. For example, such solitary confinement is not punishment. It is the gift of independence. Isn't that right, Junior?"

 

Recognizing that all hope of sleep was gone, Light sat up and rested himself against the headboard, taking Junior into his arms and holding him on his lap, against his chest.

 

"And I hope you didn't leave out that time that the dark chocolate you gave him produced a week-long bout of diarrhea, L."

 

"We decided in the end that it was worth it. Especially me, who did not have to deal with it since you would not allow me near him for that week."  L looked up finally, a smirk fixed on his face. "Ah, he is watching you, Light-kun."

 

Junior had stilled in Light's arms, his owl eyes fixed unblinkingly on Light's face. When Light glanced down, the baby smiled and cooed, producing a small, chocolate-colored bubble, which popped and dribbled down his chin.

 

Light chuckled warmly, leaning in closer toward Junior's face and blinking with wide exaggeration. "That was a BIG one, little man." he said.

 

Taking a cloth from the nightstand (such towels were littered all over the house now, as the immediacy of baby-drool was impossible to overestimate), Light gently wiped the remains of the bubble from Junior's mouth and chin.

 

"Do not forget that he is squishy," L said. "You will not be watching him with such fond eyes if you wind up spending the rest of the night washing clothes and bedsheets." He hit the power button and stuffed the computer unceremoniously onto the sidetable, then stretched his arms up. "Then you may bring him back to me so that I may play with him."

 

"L." Light said, very unimpressed with these plans. "First of all, we've already established that today is your day for baby-duties. And secondly, playtime is over. Right now the sun is sleeping. That means Junior should too."

 

 "But, Light-kun, he is not sleepy," L said, pointing at the child, then withered at the sharp glance Light shot him. "Then." he said, changing his mind. "let us tell him a bedtime story."

 

"Hmm." Light said, reluctantly approving such a postponement of bedtime. Junior listened more closely to stories with each passing day, and Light admitted to himself that he enjoyed making up the tales with L.

 

"Alright. One bedtime story. Let's see....once upon a time....there lived a prince in the most beautiful temple in Japan. His name was Yoru."

Now feeling extremely pleased with himself for getting his way not only with the chocolate milk and with Light taking over duties, but also putting off bedtime (which he and Junior both disliked) L scooted closer to Light. He lined up his right thigh to Light's left and pulled Junior toward him, situating his back against the support of their legs so he could face them.

 

"Prince Yoru was exceedingly handsome," L said. He slipped his index finger against Juniors palm and smiled when tiny fingers closed around it. "he had toffee colored eyes and hazelnut skin, and everybody loved him. But Prince Yoru did not love anyone back."

 

Light glanced aside at L and watched him...momentarily entranced by the image of he and Junior's interactions and at the implication of L's words.

 

"It was....this way for quite a long time. Prince Yoru was lonelier than anyone around him, though no one knew it. Until one day, a rival empire sent a scroll over to Prince Yoru's temple. There was a new prince scheduled to arrive in the village."

 

Light reached out and tickled Junior's little bootied toes. "The new prince kept his name a secret."

 

"Because he was the most brilliant and richest person in the whole, wide world. He was like a celebrity, only better, because most celebrities only use 6% of their brain cells. They use too much bleach on their hair, like M-"

 

Light elbowed him sharply in the ribs, and L changed course seamlessly.  "He went by the name of Z. What Prince Yoru didn't know was that Z was even lonelier than he was. Z did not have any admirers, he did not even have any friends because he had been kept a secret for so long."

 

"Z was quite upsetting to Prince Yoru when he first arrived at the temple. Z was different from anyone Prince Yoru had ever met before, including other royals. He was messy, blunt, spoiled, and too intelligent by half. Prince Yoru didn't know what to do with Z, or how to tame him. Smiles and friendliness didn't tame him. Harsh words didn't either. Neither did ignoring him, because Z had a way of making it so that Prince Yoru COULDN'T ignore him. Prince Yoru was consumed with the need to tame the new prince, and yet he couldn't figure out how."

 

Light leaned in close to Junior and whispered, "It was Z's fault that he made it so difficult."

 

"Incidentally, Prince Yoru was not upsetting to Z," L said. "Z was fascinated. He had never seen anyone so beautiful. And Prince Yoru was spoiled in a completely different way than he was. Prince Yoru was charming, but like a snake. He was conniving and he used his beauty for his own benefit. But Z was not taken in by that. Z saw through Prince Yoru's smile and he saw that it was not a real smile."

 

L looked at Light, smiling softly.

 

By now, the tiny hand enclosed over L's index finger had drooped down onto the coverlet, and Light reached over to take over the duty himself. That he held L's entire hand was unbeknownst to the baby.

 

"One day," Light said, "Z came to Prince Yoru's chambers and told him that. Prince Yoru was taken aback by Z's knowledge of his heart, and his motives. While Z talked, Prince Yoru came to see that when Z watched him, it was not out of nefarious plotting, but rather out of something else. And Prince Yoru found himself inviting Z inside for tea."

 

L chuckled softly. "The way I remember things, it was a bit more than tea you were inviting me over for."

 

Light sighed and shook his head, though he was smiling in spite of himself. "And yet I find myself oddly reluctant to tell our son more about that 'more.'"

 

"But I have a feeling that Light-kun would not be opposed to retelling me that part of the story with actions instead of words later on, once the child is secured inside of his cell once more."

 

"He might be." Light replied. "Provided that you can behave yourself."

 

"Light-kun has a way of letting all the air out of my happy party balloons," L said. He looked back at Junior and brushed a his free hand softly over the sleeping baby's hair. "He looks just like you when he sleeps; a miniature Angel Cake."

 

Light huffed out a self-concious-sounding laugh. "I...was not aware of that, L. Every time I look at him, I see all that's you in him." He took a moment to just watch the baby, and reflect on the miracle that this...this life was truly his. That the fairy-tale was true.

 

"Let's take him to his crib, L."

 

Light slid his hands under Junior's back, carefully supporting his head with one. "He needs sleep, and we need it too. ....eventually."

 

L perked at the last word, his eyes brightening. "For once, I will not argue. But please do not get used to it." He slid out of bed and slumped into his usual hunched posture. "I will accompany you to his cell."

 

Light rolled his eyes and kept his voice to a whisper as they started down the hall. "You know it's a nursery. Calling it a cell is going to give him a complex."

 

L waited for Light to pass with the baby and followed them out. "It is the truth. How would you feel if you were put behind bars inside of a room devoid of all social interaction and decorated in scary-faced chibi animals?"

 

"I would feel relieved of the world's idiots, given that you could still come over for conjugal visits." Light said, smirking. He slipped into Junior's cell (damn L's euphemisms) NURSERY....and lowered the baby down into his crib, switching the aquarium lights to their dimmest setting.

 

L glanced around the room, hands in pockets. "It is true that his painted chibi friends appear more intelligent than Matsuda-san."  His gaze had landed on a soft brown monkey painted just beside the window, who was scratching his head with his tail. Their mistake; incidentally, it was Matsuda who had helped Sayu decorate the room. L thought it was creepy. It would have been much better if the theme had been chibi cupcakes.

 

It was only with careful control that Light stopped himself from laughing audibly and waking Junior. L's humor was sharp and pointed and dry - Light should probably tell him at some point how much he liked it.

 

"Perhaps you and I will redecorate when Junior gets a little older and can tell us what he would like better." Light said. He pressed a kiss against his fingers and touched them to the baby's cheek, then turned and went to L. "Bedtime now, chibi-hater?"

 

L nodded. "I do not have room in my heart to love chibi's when I love Light-kun and strawberry cheesecake so much." His fingers curled into the sides of Light's T-shirt as he leaned in for a kiss.

 

Light pressed his lips against L's, teasing for the moment and much less deep than the kisses he planned to give in the near future. When Light pulled back, he said, "Perhaps you can have both in our room sometime."

 

L was already tugging him out of the door.  "You will suffice for now."

 

Light's self-satisfied grin did not leave him even when they made it back to their bedroom and the door was closing behind them. He suspected that he'd be waking up with it too.

 

The idea was not unpleasant.


	2. Grocery Shopping

**Junior: Age 6 months**

Shopping was not a pastime L liked to partake in often; that was one of the many things Watari was good for. Unfortunately, now that L was a father, Watari was a grandfather, and insisted that a grandparents only job pertaining to the grandchild is spoiling him rotten.

Watari also insisted that since L had offered solace to the most prolific mass-murderer of all time, he could certainly handle the responsibility of a little grocery shopping. L often took issue with that. Surely Light's actions as Kira had warranted him the duty of household chores? Watari didn't see it that way, though. He and Light had taken on this arrangement TOGETHER, he said. And when L was being entirely honest with himself...he knew that was the truth of the matter. The night that Light had confessed-without-confessing and L had told-him-without-telling-him that he could walk free if he renounced the Death Note...it was a partnership, not an individual decision on either of their parts. (Sometimes that partnership was still littered with jabs, though. Like when Light talked about how the world was still filled with filth because of "a certain stubborn, morally retarded detective who couldn't see a golden opportunity when it fell out of the sky." Or when L made snide comments about Kira's remarkable capacity for self-delusion.)

So L had done what any normal, loving father would do and tried to dump the chore on his significant other. More misfortune- Light was more stubborn than a Russian guard born under Taurus with a shotgun up his beehind. Many charming fights later, and L had decided that it just wasn't worth it. Not after Light had threatened to buy only from the vegetable side of the produce section and nowhere else.

It wasn't as boring or frustrating as he originally imagined, L had to admit. He had even grown to enjoy it a little. Junior attracted a vast audience, from other children, to women, to senior citizens. Light seemed vaguely annoyed whenever anyone touched the baby, but L thought it was funny. Especially when the more perceptive onlookers noticed the striking resemblance the child had to both parents. Both MALE parents. Some were even audacious enough to inquire about it, to which L would reply that everyone had their price and Light was worth the 7.3 million it took to get inside his pants. He conveniently left out the part where the 7.3 million actually went to a lab and several highly advanced doctors who specialized in splicing genes. The puzzled customers would leave with the impression that Light was once a very pricey jezabel, and also a woman.

This incensed Light to near hysterics, but L really couldn't be bothered to explain the whole, long, complicated procedure of splicing genes and mixing them together in a petri dish with a carefully and meticulously picked donor egg, and then explain how Light was never a woman and that it was actually Light's younger sister who had carried the child to full term for them.

Better for them to just assume what they will. It was good for Light to practice controlling his nasty temper anyway.

They had left early today, though, and the store was nearly empty. Junior had been strapped into a baby chair and stuck in the front of the shopping cart. Light had dressed him like a complete prep: black socks, tiny tan slacks and a dark gray, V-neck sweater.

"Light-kun," L said, a finger to his lip as he trailed beside the basket. "Perhaps a change of wardrobe is in order. Junior-kun looks just like a Ventriloquist dummy fashioned after you.

"His wardrobe is fine, L. He looks respectable, and competent." Light said with the utmost calm. Honestly, he still marveled at himself that he could manage an even vocal tone when L said things like that - comments barbed pointedly in the hope of an emotional reaction. "Which is more than I can say for you."

L did nothing but smirk slightly at that comment, before Light saw the tell-tale gleam in his eye that meant he had detected sucrose in the immediate vicinity. L made a sharp left turn, with no apparent concern for who or what he cut off in the process (Light, and Junior in the cart, respectively).

And there it was. Aisle 6 - aptly labeled "Snacks, Chips, and Cookies."

Light looked down at Junior, who was watching L speed down the aisle with undivided attention. Probably the baby was so entranced because he'd never seen L move so fast before in his life.

Light sighed and looked down at his son. "This is going to be an example of what NOT to eat, okay? Your daddy has a penchant for things that will wreck his insulin response and clog his arteries. This is not something that you and I, as civilized people, will do to ourselves."

Then he maneuvered the cart in L's direction, and prepared himself for what he knew was coming.

L already had an armload of goodies, all bearing Little Debbie's portrait. He dumped the contents into the cart and careened back down the aisle. He had seen honey buns but was not able to grab them-his last available finger had been securing the oatmeal cream sandwich cookies.

"There are no twinkies," L announced suddenly, freezing mid-step. The sixteen inches of shelf-space which normally held a stock of the golden cakes was completely empty, save a pack of Mission flour tortilla's someone had obviously ditched for something sweeter. "Light-kun, there are NO twinkies."

It was sad how unsurprised Light was, both with the question and with all that L had managed to accumulate so far.

"That is neither a problem nor a concern of mine, L. We are not here for Twinkies. Or..." Light said, reaching into the cart and shuffling through its new contents. "Twenty seven packages of M&Ms."

"Twenty-eight, Light-kun." L replied, rifling through the lowest shelf in controlled but intense concentration.

"And though you did not come with them in mind, I had them on the grocery list. Written in a language you don't speak."

Light was unimpressed. "I SAW that Hungarian, L. Don't think I couldn't put two and two together. And I'll be learning it with Junior when he gains his fine motor skills for speech. It's the fifth language he'll be immersed in."

"Already you are thinking about his fifth language when he firstly needs to learn his mother language-

English." L said this off-handedly; he was scratching his head, eyeing the rows of brightly colored confections like a witness gauging a prison line-up. He was pretty sure one of them had to be hiding a box of Twinkies.

...a terrifying and almost comically unforeseen problem suddenly slammed into Light's brain. Steamrolling all thoughts of the upper-sized booties that Light was planning on buying next week.

L wanted Junior's native tongue to be... English. As in...not Japanese.

Light looked down at his son, who was trying to disengage his baby seat belt from his baby seat. Light rearranged the straps properly and then very promptly wheeled the cart right in front of L, narrowly missing his toes.

"We need to talk."

Confusion flashed in his cauldron-black eyes before settling into annoyance. "Now is not the time or place, Light-kun. There are delicious golden cakes which must be found immediately. Since Junior will be eating baby food starting this week, I thought that I would share with him some of the cream. These are very special Twinkies in which the Dearest Heart and I will engage in crucial Father-Son bonding. Now, kindly step aside before I move you myself." And with that, he narrowed his eyes, cocked his head slightly to the right, and smirked.

Light was having none of that. This was important.  
"When were you going to tell me you wanted his native language to be English?" he demanded.

L blinked a blink that blinked volumes. Then he replied oh-so-innocently, "I assumed you knew. What else would it be?"

Light couldn't tell if L was genuinely that presumptive and shortsighted or just WANTING to fight. He decided it didn't matter.

"We're BOTH his parents. He doesn't AUTOMATICALLY take on English as his 'mother language,' L. Or do you assume that Britain holds more sway than my own birth country?"

In some detached area of himself, Light understood that this was neither the time nor the place nor the attitude that would get him what he wanted. But DAMN if L didn't get him riled sometimes.

Junior made a gurgled sort of burping sound and Light took him out of the baby seat, held him in his arms, and patted his back.

He would save his son from the tyranny of Queen Elizabeth.

"The origin of the language matters not, Love, as they both drink ample amounts of tea," L said, in his most crisp British accent.

This was the wrong thing to say, as Light began to puff up like an irritated canary. It was a shame really. Sometimes L could prevent fights AND get his way with a bit of humor. Changing tactics, his face fell into blankness.

"English," he stated. "would be the superior choice as most countries have at least some understanding of the language. It only makes sense that it be his mother tongue." As he said this, he slid a box of strawberry shortcake rolls aside to reveal a gleaming box of Twinkies. L had to fight not to beam with pride as Junior struggled to reach for it, his large eyes fixated on the colored packaging.

Light knew that L was right about that. And were he currently in a mood to accept rationality as the basis of his actions, he would be done with the entire discussion. But...Light had noticed himself getting...paternal...very quickly and very deeply. And with it came a strong sense of protecting Junior and his own legacy and somehow this...

Light decided the best thing to do was wait. They'd re-vist the subject when he was calmer. Making any decision - whether in L's favor or against it - was not wise right now.

Junior was still struggling in his arms.

Light said, in Japanese, "Remember what I said about those." and set the baby firmly back into his seat on the cart.

Neither of them broke the smoldering gaze they were locked in. Light knew it wasn't over. L knew it wasn't over. But that did not mean that L had to accept Light insulting perfectly respectable food.

Holding Light's eyes, he dangled the box over the cart between two fingers.  
"His arteries are young. He can take it," he said, in his deadly calm voice, and let go.

Junior immediately let out a delighted squeal and waved his arms in the hopes of catching the container. His motor skills were not yet what they needed to be for such an action, though, and the brightly colored package fell with a thump.

Light was nearly beside himself. Without a word, he began removing every sugared item in the cart that he could get his hands on, shoving them back onto the shelves without a word.

"Put them back, Light-kun," L said, with barely controlled panic. His eyes were even wider than usual, the image of everything he dearly loved being shoved carelessly back onto the unforgiving shelves reflecting in his pupils. "I will not forgive you for such callousness."

Light continued at a steady pace, which was taking him twice as long as it took L to get them into the cart in the first place. He left the Twinkies for last, his eyes taking on the Kira-like glint they got whenever he was doing something particularly vindictive. L lunged forward and seized the box, pulling and tugging. But Light held fast, trying to wrench it away.

As if sensing the sparks of conflict crackling and igniting around his parents, Junior squirmed and whimpered in his baby seat. When this brought about no immediate change in his fathers, the baby gave in and wailed.

"Dammit, L! Let...GO..." Light was saying, and in between his words were the huffs of frustration that L was known to give during moments of true and utter ire.

Given the noise emitting from their corner of the supermarket, It was not long before other patrons made their presence known. A woman with two children of her own came peering over from the corner of Captain Crunch display, and soon after, an elderly man had shuffled over as well.

"You are making a spectacle of yourself, Light-kun. Give in and save what little of your dignity remains."

Light's glower deepened, if that were at all possible. "My son will NOT be polluted with this CRAP you call food!"

With a final yank, the feeble box finally gave and ripped loudly in two. Cellophane-covered cakes rained down on aisle 6, much to the delight of the two onlooking children.

L and Light both froze, momentarily stunned. Then L dropped his half of his box, his shoulders hunching.

The first thing L and Watari had ever done together was split a Twinkie. At the time, it hadn't been the sugar that held any influence over L; it had been the simplicity of the kindness and the bond of sharing something with someone just for the sake of it. L wanted that moment with Junior, and Light... Light was hell-bent on taking that from him.

"That was the last box," L said, his tone flatlining. "I guess for now, you get your way. But I do not believe the produce aisle is going to be too happy to see me today." And with that, he shuffled off.

This was...Light exhaled long and deeply. How and why the last five minutes had happened seemed to like a blur to him now.

He took hold of the cart and turned it in L's direction, starting off after him at the same shuffling pace, and trying to calm Junior by making shushing sounds and playing with his hands as he did.

L was indeed right about the direction of the baby food, and soon they came to a stop in front a massive wall of different varieties. Light had already researched which were the right ones for any child of his. Made a list of them, in fact, along with their respective ingredients and places of manufacturing.

L was staring at the wall of baby food containers, cell phone held up to his ear by thumb and index finger. He was speaking just loud enough for Light to hear.

"Yes... no, not those. The twenty gauge set. Immediately. ... as large as you can make it. Our aim is to make a clear statement. ...yes, thank you. Excellent work."

Light immediately had a premonition of suspicion. L was planning something.

Taking Junior out of the baby seat again, Light walked over to L's place in the aisle (this one aisle number 13).

"What was that about?" he demanded.

"It is not your concern." L answered blithely. "Not yet anyway. ...hmm. They have strawberry shortcake flavor." he continued, indicating a pink jar of baby food

"Whatever you are up to, L Lawliet, I will find out." Light whispered this, apropos of protecting L's identity, but it was a deadly, cobra hiss.

"Yes, Light Yagami Lawliet, you WILL. That is the point."

Light felt a momentary panic seize his lungs, but he managed to fight it down. "L, seriously. What did you do?"

Ignoring Light, L pulled Junior from his arms and moved closer to the display. "Which would you like?" he asked gently. "Something boring, like peas; or something with a little pazaz, like vanilla custard?"

Juniors pudgy little hand was already flailing out, trying to touch whatever he could. His palm landed on a jar of a lower priced brand-plain banana. L pulled it from the shelf and dropped it into the cart.

The cynical side of Light thought that this was a telling example of the differences in he and L's parenting styles in a nutshell. But rather than give that side a voice, he remained silent and watched.

L was taking slow steps down the shelves, occasionally murmuring something to Junior, and occasionally dropping jars into their cart. Junior was making straining "mmmmm!" noises at intervals.

After several minutes, a good amount of baby food had accumulated. Light saw that along with the banana, there were peaches, sweet potato, and surprisingly, a larger than average jar of peas.

L eventually brought his eyes to Light's again. "That should last him until next week." Light nodded. "He'll have enough."

"I suppose you will be wanting to purchase fruits and vegetables next?" L asked, eyes blank and monotone so thick it was almost sarcastic.

Light sighed. "Yes, L. How curious it is that a parent would want their child to have all necessary nutrients for proper growth and maturation. I'm weird, I guess."

And with that, he wheeled the cart around and started off in the direction of the produce.

L, with Junior in his arms, trailed after Light, suspiciously quiet. A quiet L was either plotting or waiting for a plot to unfold.

Minutes later, Light realized that today it was the latter.

There was enough time for them to turn the corner into the produce, and for Light to begin to wonder why in the world this was the only section of the store devoid of any other human life forms, when a bang like a Pillsbury biscuit tube exploding rang out, and Light's vision was momentarily obstructed by the red guts of vine-ripe tomatoes bursting like a firework over the display. Next came blue and yellow as the obviously planned genocide of the produce aisle hit the berries and bananas. The finale was a vibrant mixture of lettuce, carrots, and radishes.

It took mere seconds for the entire section to go up, and Light found himself unable to do anything but stare, wide-eyed with complete outraged SHOCK at the length's L went to for revenge. Over TWINKIES.

When the last few sounds of produce splattering onto the floor dissipated, Light regained his presence of mind and whirled on L.

"I cannot BELIEVE you!" he shouted. "Are you out of your MIND? Someone could have gotten hurt!"

"I find it very telling that you blame me for this, Light-kun." L said mildly, bouncing Junior lightly on his hip. "You are very quick to accuse the one you profess to love."

"Oh just STOP it, L. You know you did this and you need to take responsibility for it! Do you realize how much we'll owe in damages to this place? And besides that, JUNIOR is with us! What if he had gotten hurt? Huh?"

L started past Light, Junior still on his hip. "The Dearest Heart was perfectly safe before and after this event. I

hope you realize the seriousness of your Twinkie Trespass. Now...we will be looking at toys while you finish getting what you need. Call when you're ready."

Light had no chance to respond before L had turned his back on him was out of earshot. How DARE he! Light was so angry he could have very easily ran after L and continued his shouting. But Light was nothing if not ever-conscious of public appearances, and his sensitivity to that would not allow him to go on making a scene. The last thing he wanted to do was attract attention. Forcing himself to calm his shaking rage, he steeled his mind to the purpose of getting the necessities of life quickly. L could answer for his outrageousness later. L WOULD answer for his outrageousness later.

Light walked through the aisles blindly, clinging to the last bits of tranquility he had. He went about throwing the necessary items to the cart - gaining little satisfaction from the forlorn clanging they created when they struck the metal of the cart's bottom. Rice, bread, chicken, juice...a box of Chips Ahoy...L did need to eat too, the childish, reckless, irresponsible bastard.

Then he punched the redial on his cell and called the father of his son.

It was Junior who answered. At first there was nothing, and then the unmistakable half gurgle, half cooing sound he made whenever they coaxed him to "talk."

Light smiled, fully aware that no one was seeing it. He loved Junior's talking at this stage. "Did you find a toy you like?" he asked into the phone.

There was silence again, and then sharp, excited breaths and another soft coo. A second later, L was on.

"I am sorry to break up this conversation, but Junior decided he likes tasting my cell phone more than he likes talking into it, and I draw the line at slobber. Are you quite ready? We will meet you at the registers."

L was speaking entirely in English, his tone clipped and impersonal. He really took his Twinkies seriously.

Two minutes later, Light found L and Junior loitering at a magazine rack. L was pointing out bits and pieces of popular culture and commentating on them dryly while Junior paid a slightly-disturbing amount of attention. Light knew that L had a not-so-closeted interest in celebrities and the various aspects of their superficial lives but if the trait was hereditary...

Light decided not to think on that further, as he had had enough distressing thoughts for one shopping trip. He began the task of checking out.

L wandered over when the last of the items were being rung up. He paused at the display of candy bars next to the conveyor.

"Hershey's chocolate bar," he said, sadly. "Even someone without any teeth could eat a piece of it. It melts right onto your tongue. It is heaven for your taste buds." He cast a fleeting look at Light. "I would get one and share some with you, Dearest Heart. Only your Father would probably flush it down the toilet."

Light sighed. He reminded himself that many a Zen teaching emphasized viewing challenges as opportunities. And he fought down the immediately proceeding thought - that any monk who met L would convert.

"Father would flush it if your daddy decided to give it to you without any kind of input from him." Light said, mildly, still setting items down on the conveyor belt. Then he brought his eyes up to meet L's.

"Because, chocolate contains many known antioxidants, as well as necessary triglycerides. It's not poison if eaten in moderation."

L snatched a Hershey's bar and whirled around. "Light-kun, may your son and your significant other have some antioxidants?" It was torn between sarcasm and hopefulness.

Light rarely snorted. He restrained himself to polite laughs or even chuckles if he were feeling generous. But this was a time where L got one out of him, either purposefully or otherwise.

"I didn't..." Light began, then cut himself off. "Yes, L. You may both have some antioxidants."

"Look at that," L said, looking at Junior. "Kira is a generous God." He set the candy on the conveyor and held Light's gaze challengingly as he strolled past the register to wait for Light at the doors.

Light could FEEL the emotion, whatever kind it was (he didn't feel like naming it), build up spectacularly in his chest and he clamped it down firmly, knowing nothing productive would come from it.

He smiled politely at the cashier and nodded at her small-talk, swiped his credit card, and promptly loaded the groceries into the cart. Very procedural. Very bland. Very under control.

"Let's go home." he said to L, barely restraining a sigh, when he caught up to him. Junior was squirming a bit and Light figured he had about 25 minutes before a nap was in order.

In the parking lot, Light clicked the button on his keys to unlock the doors of their charcoal grey SUV. It was neither of their first preferences, and they each had their own cars, but when going out as a family they had actually both agreed without conflict that a nice family vehicle that wouldn't draw attention to themselves was the way to go. They needed to transport their child without onlookers giving him a celebrity complex. Light wasn't about to let him grow up a spoiled, starry-eyed brat just because he was Lawliet's son.

He swapped the keys for Junior and put him into his car seat. L was annoyed with "the frivolities of the animal harness" and so it was on Light to make sure he was fastened securely.

L opened up the trunk and began loading up the bags. He was tired and irritated and he just wanted a Twinkie or at least something else equally as sugar laden. He had the chocolate bar, it was true, but anyone knew that wasn't a meal. Cake was a meal. Pie a la mode was a meal. A large bowl of Neapolitan ice-cream with marshmallow cream and chocolate sauce- THAT was a meal. All THIS junk though... tilapia filets, canned carrots, soba noodles. He couldn't WORK with this.

But as he was about to grab the last bag, the corner of a shiny blue package caught his eye, covered beneath a box of shredded mini wheat's. Without daring to hope, he clipped the ruffled edged of the blue package between his fingers and slowly pulled out a pack of Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies.

Enchanted, he held it up between forefinger and thumb, staring at the sunlight glinting off its magnificent logo.

"Light."

  
Light snapped the last of Junior's straps into place and straightened up as he turned around.

  
"You bought me Chips Ahoy?"

  
"Of course," said Light, with frosty dignity. "I don't want you to starve just because I don't want our son to-"

"I love you, Light-kun!" He threw his arms around Light's shoulder's and squeezed, the cookies landing hard against his back.

Light felt some stupid, completely useless sort of tenderness wash over him, softening his bitterness. He put his arms around L's waist and sighed out a tired laugh. "Oh, L."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned! And hit that comment button!


	3. Babysitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh heh...the one where Near and Mello enter stage right...
> 
> We do so enjoy writing crackfic.

**Junior: Age 9 months**

"Light-kun, they are here!"

L had been sitting backward on the long sofa in the front parlor, staring out the window at the wide, cobblestone drive. He had already finished dressing 20 minutes ago- a pair of black jeans and a light sweater, at Light's insistence. It was that or slacks and a dress shirt, and although L was longing for a date, he wasn't that desperate yet.

Light was still getting ready. Gelling and combing his hair, was L's guess. Splashing on cologne. L wasn't sure where they were going. Light only said he wouldn't be caught dead there with bed hair and vampire-like circles beneath his eyes. He came into the foyer as L reached the door, pulling it open as a yellow and black motorcycle sped up the drive. It made a sharp turn seconds before colliding with the porch, coming to an unusually smooth stop for being so abrupt.

"Mello!" L called merrily, waving.

Light came to stand just behind L, looking over his shoulder out the door at the two...people (it was a generous word)...who would be in charge of his son for the foreseeable future. As usual, Light was not impressed with the initial impressions they provided.

The blond one, whom L had so affectionately greeted, was in even more black leather than usual. He had added gloves to his usual ensemble - using them to grip the handle bars of the motorcycle he insisted on riding.

But the other one...where was the...

Suddenly a white puff of wispy hair popped out from behind that... Mello person. And with it followed Near, leaning to the left and slowly swinging his leg over the back of the bike.

He was riding with Mello? Jesus God.

When Near was standing on the ground, both feet firmly planted, one hand immediately went up to twirl a curl at his temple. He wore a drab, almost blank expression. Like babysitting was his day job or something.

"And I," he said quietly, presumably to L, who hadn't mentioned him.

"Near," L said, just as affectionately, pushing the screen open and letting it slap closed behind him. "I didn't see you back there. So. Mello finally talked you into riding with him. How was it?"

Mello had taken off his helmet and was tossing out his golden mane. "I'm going to have nail marks on my stomach for the rest of my damn life, that's how it was. I'm just glad he managed not to pee himself or I'd have thrown him off."

"It was enjoyable, all things considered." Near said, mildly. His eyes seemed determined to look at anything but Mello right then.

Light sighed and forced himself to follow L out onto the porch. He didn't know what he was supposed to say to either of them, though. It's not as though he shared L's long history with them, and the history that Light DID share with them, well...

He decided this was a time in which it was best to let L do the talking.

"I will be happy to give you a ride back home if you don't wish to risk your life a second time tonight," L said. "Junior is inside. He has just finished dinner and Light will have him freshly diapered before we depart." He shot a smug smirk over his shoulder at Light.

To Light's annoyance, Mello was giving him the same self-satisfied expression.

"You may give him dessert if you wish," L continued. "Something soft, of course. But please be wary of the pinwheel."

"Pinwheel?" Mello repeated, an eyebrow raised.

L sighed. "Matsuda-san gave him a pinwheel that seems to have become a permanent part of his hand. If you take it from him, he turns into the devil's son and I promise that you will be sorry."

"Like Near's stupid panda doll," said Mello with a snort.

"Not like the panda doll," L corrected. "This is... an obsession so deep I can honestly say I have only seen it one other time." And with this he nudged, apparently trying to be sly about it, at Light. "He is his father's son."

"Son of the devil." Mello nodded. "Makes sense."

Light raised his chin a fraction, making eye contact with Mello evenly. "I'm sure you're always this polite as a guest. How impressive."

"I get it from my mother's side," Mello said roughly. He pushed past Light and disappeared into the house, apparently unaffected by the retort.

L smiled after him, as if he were one of the most admirable people L could have ever hoped for, and slung an

arm companionably around Near's shoulders. "Come in. I will show you where we keep the jigsaws."

Light remained standing in place for quite a few moments after the three of them had gone inside, staring at nothing in particular but focusing quite heavily on why he had agreed to this farce at all and mentally imagining all the ways in which L would be repaying him for it.

When he felt capable of doing so again, Light made his way back into the house - following the sounds of L explaining something about an international puzzle competition and Junior's suspiciously contented baby- talk.

He found them all in the living room, Mello already studying Junior and nodding approvingly, as though he was satisfied that Junior had inherited enough of L's genes to be deemed a viable human being.

The sooner they got of there, the better.

"Yes," Mello was saying, holding him up to the light. "He looks like you, L. Much less like Yagami than the last time we saw him. How long's it been?"

"Twenty-three days," L said.

"A desirable improvement." Mello secured the baby onto his hip.

Light could feel a vein in his temple begin to twitch - both at the idea that L had been keeping a daily count of how long it had been since Mello and Near had last visited, and at how easily Junior seemed to be taking to Mello holding him. He was waving his pinwheel up and down and smacking his lips together, apparently perfectly content with the whole situation.

Loathe as he was to put his body anywhere near Mihael Kheel's, Light was not going to leave his son for the night without a goodbye. He put himself firmly in front of Mello and rubbed Junior's back, leaning closer to kiss his forehead.

"Your daddy and me are going out for a little while, Junior." he said. "We're going to be back soon, okay? And probably by then you'll already be asleep and tucked in bed so it's goodnight for now. Love you, son." Light finished, patting Junior's back one final time and then walking over to the door. He took a jacket from its place hanging on the rack, and then turned to look at L, making it clear that he was ready to leave.

Mello was retracting his index from his mouth, where he'd been mimicking gagging and puking behind Light's back, then pointedly wiped the kiss mark off Junior's cheek. L kissed Junior's other cheek, which, Light noted, Mello did NOT wipe off, and joined Light at the door.

"The chocolate is behind the cereal boxes," he said, and allowed Light to shove him outside.

XXX

When the door shut behind L and Light, Near reflected that he was alone with Mello and an infant human. It was not something he'd planned for with any degree of precision.

L and Light Yagami did have an adequate collection of jigsaw puzzles and crosswords though. At the very least, he'd have something to occupy himself with if Mello wanted to keep the baby duties to himself for the evening.

Which was looking like a possibility at the moment, as Mello was sitting down on the couch firmly with Junior in his lap. It was odd how naturally Mihael behaved with an infant - as though he'd babysat plenty of times and truly knew what he was doing.

"Your eyes are still the shiznit," Mello said, a bit offhandedly as Junior stared back with his coal-colored owl eyes. "But that HAIR." He ran his fingers through the smooth strands, watching the multicolored pieces catch the light as they fell back into place-soft toffee browns blended with cocoa and pale chocolates. It was Light's hair two shades darker. "You've got Yagami's highlights AND cut. It's enough to make me cry. We've got to do something about this. STAT. Let's go. Don't forget the pinwheel now."

Near looked up from the puzzle collection.  
"Are you implying that you'll be altering Junior's hair?" he asked.

"I'm not implying anything." Mello swung Junior onto his hip like an everyday accessory. "I'm flat out saying that I'm about to do something about it. Do you want to come and watch or not?"

Near had a sudden, bizarre image of Mello wearing a pleated skirt and a pearl necklace - like the American housewives of the mid-twentieth century.

"I'm not sure that alteration of a child's physical appearance is part of the job description of a temporary caretaker," Near said, mildly. He unfolded himself from his crouched position on the floor anyway, though. "I will not hesitate to reveal to L and Light Yagami that it was solely your idea, if asked."

Mello began ascending the large, double staircase. It rose up together and branched out on top, one leading right and one leading left. Mello chose right at random. "Judging from the kid's hair and appalling attire, I sincerely doubt L gives two Tootsie Pops about Junior's appearance as long as he's healthy and clean. And I don't give two Tootsie Pops if it pisses off Yagami or not."

Near had no disputes with this logic. He trailed after Mello up the stairs, admittedly interested to see what Junior would ultimately come to look like.

Mello led them both down the hallway, peaking his head into rooms seemingly at random before passing them by and continuing on. Eventually one of these rooms seemed to meet with his approval - Mello ducked inside with Junior in tow.

When Near made his way inside too, he found that they had come to a very comfortably-sized bathroom. Two marble sinks were mounted in front of a mirror to his right, and beyond, there was a glass shower and toilet. The bathroom had enough floor space for a small bench, off to the left.

Mello had planted himself in front of the sinks. As he settled Junior down to sit on the counter, Near came to stand at his side, one hand automatically reaching up to twirl at his hair.

Mello consulted Junior a moment, who obliviously waved around the pinwheel, none too fazed about why he had been brought into the bathroom. "What I'd really love right now is to just take a nice pair of electric sheers to it. Unfortunately, I'm not too crazy about buzz cuts." He wrapped an arm around his waist and brought the other thoughtfully up to his chin with a "hmm."

He began rummaging through the drawers and medicine cabinets, keeping Junior anchored to the counter with a firm hand pressed to the baby's thigh. It took a bit of searching and a few choice swear words, but he was able to produce a comb, hairspray, extra hold gel, and a fine silver pair of trimming scissors. He brandished the latter at Near's reflection. "This will be my backup in case nothing else works. I don't care

about pissing off Yagami, but if the 'do is permanent, I bet L will be bitched at for the rest of his life for it. I'll TRY to spare him that."

Junior, as most babies, was quick to notice the shiny new object Mello had retrieved. He stared at the scissors with wide eyes for a moment, then looked back at his pinwheel, apparently deciding that even highly reflective objects were no match for his beloved toy.

Near looked at the array of hair-care products resting on the counter.  
"It is astonishing that three humans could need such a large quantity of product," he remarked.

Mello made a 'tch' sound with his tongue. "One human, more like. L doesn't do anything to his hair to get it that way, and I'm sure Yagami's not letting Junior near this stuff right now. This is all his."

Near's lips suddenly curled up slightly at the corners.  
Mello glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. "What's that for?"

"I am envisioning Light Yagami's anger when he realizes that not only is his son physically changed, but his collection of beauty products has also been tampered with."

This seemed to bring Mello immense satisfaction; his lips curled up in a smile that could be rivaled only by the Grinch after he'd gotten his most awful wonderful idea. "Thank you, Near. That gives me a really good idea." He turned back to Junior. "But later. This kid is screaming for a makeover."

He first opened the gel-a TUB, because no bottle came big enough to hold this amount- and then turned on the sink facet and ran the comb underneath. He brought the thin, wooden teeth through the whole of Junior's hair, dampening it to a warm chocolate cake color. Junior was a model client, sitting (mostly) still and allowing Mello to turn his head this way and that and finally turn him to face the mirror so Mello could do the back of his head. Junior let out a delighted noise, as the reflection created the illusion of two pinwheels.

"I don't get what the big deal is about a pinwheel that Yagami would want to take it from him," Mello said. He dipped his fingers in the clear goop, rubbed them together, and began sifting them through Junior's hair. "Keeps him quiet and occupied."

"I suspect that he's concerned that the toy is indicative of substandard intelligence." Near said, watching Mello's actions in the mirror. "It's not unlikely that he would hope for a genii in his progeny. For that matter, it's not unlikely that L would hope for the same."

Sensing the form Mello was trying to create, Near reached out slowly and pushed one of Junior's locks up and out to help him.

"A pinwheel really isn't the pinnacle of mental acuity, of course."

"Neither is a stuffed panda bear, but you turned out alright." It was meant as a jab, but Mello saw a faint rose tinge appear across Near's pale cheeks.

"Did I." said Near quietly. It was not a question.

Mello yanked gently on the too-soft baby hair. It seemed some of L's genes managed to get into the strands. It stood on-end crazy easily. "He's probably staring at the damn thing and figuring out the laws of physics all on his own. A stupid toy won't make a genius stupid any more than a mentally stimulating toy will make an idiot

anywhere close to smart." "Hmmm. Well, that's a valid point."

Without analyzing it, and without really wanting to know why, he suddenly felt claustrophobic. The bench on the left wall seemed a welcome respite, and he sat down on it, drawing one knee up to his chest. Being close to Mello affected him too much sometimes. A little distance helped to dampen the clamoring of his heart.

"Junior seems amenable to his new style." Near remarked when he was settled again.

Mello pulled back his hands to admire his mad stylist skills and pulled his lips thoughtfully to one side. Junior's hair was sticking out at all angles. The intent had been to make him look more like L, but this...

"He looks like Sonic the Hedgehog," Mello remarked, and to his astonishment, Near actually began to chuckle.

It felt good to laugh; Near wished he did it more often.  
"He does. Perhaps he possesses extreme speed and agility as well?"

Mello continued to fuss with Junior's hair, making minute adjustments whose effects Near could not discern afterwards. He supposed Mello could see them starkly, though. Mello had always been sensitive to appearances.

He was just through shaping the last spike of a rather perfectly sculpted Mohawk when a thought occurred to Near. Babies needed food. And sleep, too. And he had never taken any courses on infant nutrition or resting patterns.

"Mello? Did L mention what we are to feed him?"

"Weren't you LISTENING?" Mello hastily threw the hair supplies back into the wrong drawers and lifted Junior from the counter. He rounded on Near. "Or were you too busy staring at Yagami's IMPRESSIVE glower and stick-up-the-ass sneer to hear anything L had to say?" He marched past Near and back toward the staircase, snapping over his shoulder, "Don't think I didn't notice you oogling him the whole time."

Near blinked. And blinked again. He stared out of the open doorway Mello had just passed through, brain processing the whirlwind of information that had just been thrown at him and trying to come up with how to respond to it.

By the time Near had a made a decision, Mello had made it down the staircase. Near saw him striding towards the kitchen with Junior in tow just as he was beginning to descend the stairs.

He waited until he had caught up to Mello in the kitchen before speaking, thinking that it was better than trying to shout across corridors. Mello was setting Junior into his high chair, back facing Near. He would be fussing with the straps and belts irritably, Near already knew.

"Why do you think I was oogling Light Yagami?"

"Let's think about that for a moment, shall we?" said Mello, not turning around. "Oh, yeah," he snapped the clasp of the highchair strap around Junior's waist and turned. "Maybe it's because you WERE."

Near actually felt himself jerk back a little. It was a physical reaction he only undertook when something

truly boggled his mind.

"I am sure that I was not. I don't know what would give you such an impression." he said - genuinely perplexed, and even perturbed.

"You." Mello's fists actually clenched. "You are such an INFURRIATING, underhanded little white RAT!" This time, he actually scooped Near to the side with more force than necessary and stormed for the pantry.

Near had no idea of how to handle Mello's sudden mood swing. He had an inkling of why it could be happening, and had in fact been considering the idea for some time; but, as for what to do about it...

He was at a complete and total loss.

"Mello is emotionally unstable right now," Near pronounced quietly. He pulled out a dining chair next to Junior and sat down on it, pulling his knee up to his chest and hugging it. "The truth is that I have no eye for L's lover. How to convince you of this seems to be beyond me."

"I don't need convincing when I'm an eyewitness, Near." He snapped the pantry closed and crossed the room to the refrigerator instead, disappearing behind the door. "You didn't say a word and you obviously weren't even listening, otherwise you would have known exactly what L said. Like I do." He emerged with a rather large tub of chocolate pudding and pulled two spoons from a roll-out drawer.

Near watched Mello's movements closely, thoughtfully.  
"It is possible that I wasn't listening to L's words for other reasons."

Mello snorted and dropped into the chair directly in front of Junior. The prospect of anyone NOT listening to L for reasons other than being unable to help being fixated on the object of their affection probably was the most absurd thing he had ever heard in his entire life.

He set the pudding and one of the spoons on Junior's tray and pried off the lid. Junior watched raptly as Mello sunk his spoon into the cool cream and slid it into his mouth. When he swallowed, Junior's legs and arms began wind-milling.

"Poo-ding! Poo-ding!" He jabbered.

Mello took another scoop and sent this one into Junior's mouth. Apparently, he decided ignoring Near was the best option.

It was so obvious that Near was baiting him to ask what those reasons were, but he wasn't biting. It pissed him off too much.

Near watched and waited. Half of the pudding was gone from Mello's cup before Near decided that no answer would be forthcoming. He briefly considered saying something more, but Mello was clearly not in the mood to listen. Observation was Near's best policy now.

Junior was smacking his lips on the chocolate cream, waving his pinwheel in something akin to glee. Near wondered if he could sense any of the tension surrounding him and simply didn't care about it, or if Junior was oblivious.

Mello noticed this too. His initial anger was waning in favor of curiosity. He stared with scrutiny at Junior as he hummed and mmmed around another mouthful.

"L and Yagami must fight a lot," He said, finally. "Kid doesn't seem to even notice. It must be a usual state of affairs. Look at him. He's completely unaffected."

"Or is unable to recognize an argument happening around him." Near replied mildly. "However, I do think that you're correct. I don't see their relationship colored in rainbows and meadow-frolicking. And perhaps Junior has learned to accept it as the norm."

Near watched the baby, feeling the rare urge to volunteer a personal judgment.

"If that is the case... it is unfortunate."

"It's not unfortunate." Mello never had an issue speaking his own mind about whatever. It came as natural as breathing. He probably couldn't hold it in if he tried. "It's a good thing. He has a right to know just what kind of complete bastard Yagami is."

"You have a vehement dislike of Light Yagami." Near remarked. "Why is that?"

Mello's dangerously slitted eyes cut to Near. "You're not seriously asking me that are you?" At Near's blank stare, Mello's volcanic blood erupted again. "He's a mass murderer with a God-complex! Jesus, you'd think you've lived under a rock the past five years or something!"

Near nodded. "His moral attributes are well-documented. I meant the question in a more personal way. Your dislike of him seems not to stem from mere principle. Perhaps I am mistaken in that?"

"Perhaps it's none of your business," said Mello, his voice suddenly the sweetest rush of poison. "Perhaps so. I apologize." Near promptly said.

"I believe Junior is finished." he added, looking at the baby and witnessing his restless squirming in the high chair.

Mello held out his arms. Junior's immediately flung outward in grateful compliance, but as Mello secured his hands under Junior's armpits and lifted him up, he kept him suspended in mid air, his nose wrinkling. "I also believe he's got a stinky." He turned and pushed Junior into Near. "This would be where YOU come in, snowflake."

Near stared at Mello for a beat, then automatically took Junior from him, concerned that having all of his weight held by his armpits would be painful.

"You know as well as I do that I haven't the faintest experience in such a task."

As if to bolster Near's confidence and encourage him in his time of doubt, Junior reached up and batted at Near's white curls playfully.

"See that?" Mello said, a triumphant smirk passing across his face. "He likes you. And anyway, it's a piece of cake. You wipe your own ass, don't you? This is the same thing, only smaller." He paused and turned his head sideways, sizing up Near. "Though not by much."

Feeling his cheeks break out into a violent blush, Near shifted Junior in his grasp and said in an almost biting monotone, "The similarities between myself and this infant end at our being of the same species. Furthermore, I consider it highly unequal that I am to bear the sole responsibility for his soiled diaper. We both will clean him, as we are both charged with babysitting him."

"I already cleaned up his head," Mello said, gesturing almost frantically at Junior's mohawk, still perfectly preserved thanks to L's insane hair genes. "And word of advice: the more you shift him around like that, the messier things are going to become."

Near sighed. "That was not cleaning. That was styling, Mello. And you know it."

Junior was getting impatient with the proceedings. Instead of batting at Near's hair, he was now digging his little hand into it and pulling on it (the other being otherwise employed with the pinwheel.)

Near bore the attacks with commendable stoicism.

"I also fed him," said Mello. "It doesn't take two people to change a child's diaper. For Christ's sake, let's go do it then." He started off, tossing irritably over his shoulder, "you really annoy me, do you know that? Do you know how much you annoy me, Near?"

Near sighed. "Your frequent complaints have clued me in somewhat." He followed Mello, Junior in his arms. The baby had returned to batting at Near's curls.

Mello managed to find a room with a changing table quickly. Near had never actually changed a diaper before, however. He'd heard that it was an unpleasant but relatively simple task.

Mello pulled out a fresh diaper and began unfolding it. "Well?" he said, impatiently. "Put the child onto the changing table and remove his pants."

Near nodded and followed the instructions. It was harder than it appeared to take off Junior's bottoms. The snaps were tiny and Junior didn't seem amenable to staying in one position for more than 2 seconds. Eventually though, he managed it.

He had watched L change Junior's diaper a time or two since Junior had been born. It never seemed like an ordeal. L would take off the old diaper, clean things up, and replace it with a clean one. Surely Near could do that too.

It turned out that he could, but not as neatly as L.  
"Watch where you're putting that wipe, Near!" Mello shouted once.

Eventually the task was completed, though, and Junior was cleaned, powdered, and freshly diapered. He smiled when Near picked him up again, which gave Near a bizarre sense of pride.

"Good," said Mello, nodding approvingly. "We should do something fun now. Got any ideas?" "L and Light Yagami do have an impressive collection of puzzles..."

"We are NOT putting together a puzzle with an infant, Near," Mello said, all traces of approval vanishing. "He'll just stick the pieces into his mouth and ruin them. And it's no fun, anyway. Let's read him motorcycle magazines."

"I don't think motorcycle magazines will interest him," Near murmured. "I doubt babies care about carburetors and exhaust pipes."

"This one does," said Mello. "He's a genius. Look at him."

Junior smiled up at Near, revealing his two newly visible bottom teeth. Near made a sound which Mello had learned was his unimpressed, unconvinced little growl.

"Fine. We need to think of something we can ALL do that's fun. It's too dark to go outside, so it has to be something leisure," said Mello.

"Agreed. I suggest we watch a film."  
Mello snorted. "A FILM, is it? The way you talk, Near."  
"A movie then. The terms are synonymous. And beside the point. Shall we watch one?"

"Yeah, I guess that's fine. What do you think, Junior?" asked Mello, coming to stand behind Near's shoulder and look at the baby. "Want to watch a movie with us while we wait for your cool dad and his lame-ass boyfriend?"

Before he even opened his mouth, Mello knew what Near was going to say. For some reason he just wasn't quick enough to counter it in time.

"'Boyfriend' would be incorrect, Mello."

"It's the best he's getting from me," said Mello, pulling Junior out of Near's arms and starting toward the TV room.

"L and Light Yagami have taken vows," Near continued, falling into step behind him. He had to take three steps for every one of Mello's. "You were there. And Light Yagami's full name is now Light Yagami Lawliet, is it not?"

Mello rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I don't really care. He's still a power-hungry maniac to me."

When they arrived, Near found that L and Light seemed to have a plethora of films ("movies") from which to choose.

"Alright, kid, let's see..." said Mello to Junior, walking over to the shelves of DVDs and looking them up and down. "What have we got?"

Near was two steps ahead, though. He was already plucking a case from among the hundreds lining the wall. "They have Finding Nemo, Mello."

Mello snorted. "Only you would find the one fish movie available, you octopus. It's so like you." "You don't know that this is the only movie with-"  
"Let's watch Cars," said Mello, yanking it off the shelf. "This one is more manly."  
Near sighed. "There is very little educational value present in -"

"Near! Can't you just -"

But Mello's tirade was interrupted by straining sounds from Junior. His little arms were reaching out toward the DVDs, obviously wanting one in particular. His fingers brushed over and over against it but he could make no progress in actually taking it off the shelf.

"...huh." said Mello, examining the title. "How To Train Your Dragon." He and Near stared at each other for a beat.  
"That is acceptable."  
"Works for me."

Mello set down Junior on the floor and began setting up the movie-L had a sweet ass surround system and enormous HD flat screen-while Near nicked pillows from the sofa and began creating some sort of nest on the floor.

"What's this?" asked Mello, pointing at it.

Near was already laying on one side of it, coaxing Junior to come to him with outstretched arms. "I thought this would suffice. This way Junior can sit between us and there's no danger of him falling."

Mello watched as Junior crawled to Near, struggling to pull himself up over one of the pillows but ultimately succeeding. He scooted against Near's chest and Near's arms encircled him. It was weird how natural Near looked cuddling a baby on the floor, surrounded by mismatched pillows. But then again, maybe not. Near always did look like he belonged on the floor or on a bed, completely sedentary. Mello was surprised that he could actually walk, sometimes.

Resigned to join them, Mello retrieved the remote from the holder and took his place on the floor. Junior popped a thumb in his mouth as the movie began, the pinwheel still clamped tightly in one fist.

This baby stuff was easy, Mello thought. It was actually kind of fun taking care of mini L. It was like having a chibi accessory to tote around. And, he did have to admit it was pretty nice having Near around to take care of those nasty diapers.

Mello yawned and made himself more comfortable among the nest, glancing back at Junior and Near a quarter of the way through the movie and seeing that Junior had fallen asleep.

Near was blinking blearily at the screen, looking very close to sleep himself. And actually... now that Mello thought about it... a nap did sound really good right now...

When Mello woke, two things were immediately brought to his consciousness. One: Junior was already awake. He had apparently wandered out of the nest at some point and was now chewing on what looked like a puzzle piece. It was hard to tell because the thing was limp and mushy at this point. Oh well. Not like Near didn't have ten billion extra ones lying around.

And speaking of Near...were those HIS arms and legs wrapped around Mello? "NEAR!"  
Near jolted and looked up at him, his head having been tucked beneath Mello's chin. "The hell do you think you're doing?"

The only response was a confused sort of blink and a sliding, tightening sensation of Near's legs around one of his and Near's arms around his back.

"Where is Junior?" Near mumbled. To Mello's shock, he made no attempts to back away.  
"He's eating one of your puzzles. Now answer me! What the hell is this?"  
"What does it look like, Mello? It's cuddling."  
Mello couldn't believe his ears. He was torn between shoving the little snowflake across the room and...and... "I know what it IS, Near! I'm asking why YOU are doing it to ME!"

Mello felt that sliding, tightening sensation once again. Then he heard Near say, very matter-of-factly, "Because we're dating, of course. It's time we took this step."

For several scrabbling seconds, Mello's brain didn't work. Nothing had ever made less sense to him than everything about his world in that moment.

And then, suddenly, without even having to figure out the words, he shouted, "Are you INSANE? Get off me, Near! Get off! Do you see why I call you octopus now? Get your tentacles off me!"

Near seemed to get the message after that. He disentangled himself from Mello and sat up, blinking every few seconds like his brain had stalled.

"I don't...understand." he finally said.  
"What is there to not UNDERSTAND?" shouted Mello. "We AREN'T TOGETHER!"

Near reached up and began his little hairtwirling thing again, and vaguely Mello wondered if he was winding up his brain or something.

"Mello, I think you may be sleepwalking. You aren't making any sense."

"I am NOT-" Mello began flailing among the pillow-nest, trying to get up. "Sleepwalking!" When he'd untangled himself and got to his feet, he glared down at Near with wary, fury-filled eyes. "When have I EVER given you the impression that you and I were...that we're somehow..." He made a few strangled noises and then came up with, "together!"

"Mello..." Near began, speaking slowly. "You've been giving me that impression for months now."

All Mello could do in reply was make a few more strangled noises, and Near seemed to take that as his cue to elaborate.

"You spend time with me when you don't have to, you take me for rides on the back of your motorcycle, you get jealous when you think I'm oogling Light Yagami - which I certainly wasn't, by the way. You even have pet names for me. Octopus. Snowflake. Etcetera."

Mello opened his mouth and tried to make a few unsuccessful attempts at countering each of those things, but ultimately failed. He didn't know where to start. There was so much. And he was so WRONG.

"You're off your rocker," he chose instead, and scooped Junior off the floor.

He was fussing and whining as he chewed the cardboard puzzle piece, and Mello had remembered L saying something earlier over the phone about some sort of strange homeopathic drops Yagami insisted helped with teething. Normally, Mello would have ignored the advice had L not said it actually did work and instructed

him to give them to Junior should he fuss and chew nonsensically on objects he ought not to chew.

This sounded like a really, really good excuse for an exit. He felt like he was suffocating in marshmallowness.

The drops were kept in the kitchen, inside the refrigerator. Resting Junior on his hip, Mello opened it and found them sitting on the top shelf, labelled and dated in Yagami's stick-up-his-ass handwriting.

"You're surrounded by psychos, Junior," Mello muttered, pulling the bottle out. "First Yagami and now Near. It's a good thing you've got me to look out for you when L's gone."

Junior continued gnawing at the puzzle piece, blinking up at Mello blankly before smiling around the cardboard.

"And I don't know about you, but I really don't think you should be ingesting that. There are things in this world way more gratifying than puzzleini." He fumbled for a moment, trying to hold Junior and the bottle of teething drops, as well as wrestle away the gummy hunk of cardboard.

With a frustrated grunt, Mello thrust the bottle of drops at Near. "Here, take this shit while I save the child's life. He could choke on that crap and then where would we be? Yagami would murder us with that killer notebook voodoo shit he does and I'm too young to die."

Near took the bottle wordlessly. While he was tugging the puzzle piece out of Junior's (surprisingly strong) grip, Mello wondered how Near had even managed to follow him into the kitchen so silently. The little marshmallow was creepy. Creepy as all hell.

And no, "marshmallow" was NOT a pet name, thank you very much.

He finally managed to take it away, but found that Junior was resourceful, and simply resorted to shoving a few fingers into his mouth instead.

"Can't you open that thing?" Mello barked at Near.  
"I'm in the process of that, Mello," he answered back, infuriatingly calm.

For the third time, Junior's pinwheel whacked Mello upside the head, and although he wanted to curse up a storm, he restricted himself to growling. "Okay, kid, you're going to have to open up as soon as the rice puff opens that bottle."

There was a satisfying popping noise, and Near held up the now separated bottle and syringe.

Mello looked back at Junior and pulled his thumb out of his mouth, holding onto his little wrist so that his mouth was in the clear.

Junior struggled a bit, seemingly uncomfortable with this new arrangement. "Okay, little buddy, right down the-"

Junior suddenly wailed so loudly Near about dropped the bottle and Mello swore he felt his brain rattle. Instinctively, he planted the child on the ground and covered his ears.

"Holy fucking shit!" He screamed. "Make it stop!"

Near knelt beside the child and slipped the syringe into his mouth. Junior still fussed, but sucked down the contents in obvious distress.

"There," pronounced Near, looking half anxious and half satisfied. "That was not too troublesome, was it?"

Though he was speaking to Junior, Mello glared at him and replied, "That was VERY troublesome. I don't know what kind of brain damage you've suffered lately but it's serious. First you think we're together and then you take 3 hours to open a bottle of medicine."

"It was not longer than 30 seconds, Mihael."

Mello clutched at his hair, feeling his face screw up in aggravation and unable to stop it. "You're so fucking LITERAL!"

"Well, what would you prefer? Do you want me to agree to factually inaccurate statements?"

"I want you to STOP thinking we're DATING. If we were dating, we'd be KISSING, Near! Kissing!"

"I agree," said Near, and Mello faltered.

"What's that supposed to-"

Near grabbed two fistful's of Mello's shirt, raised himself on tiptoe and locked their lips together. Mello was too stunned to do anything but stare straight ahead, fish-eyed and mind completely reeling.

When Near pulled back, he looked.... he looked... breathless and a little flustered and there was actually a faint pink color to his usually bloodless cheeks.

Mello had never felt so insulted in his life.  
"What the hell was THAT!" He bellowed. "I am NOT the uke!"

Near turned back to the bottle of medicine, beginning to screw the little syringe back on top. "You're certainly acting like it," he said. The color had not yet faded from his cheeks. "I rather thought that -"

But Mello wouldn't let him finish that sentence. He didn't stop to let Near finish closing the bottle, either. Just hauled him close, hands around his arms, and pressed his lips against Near's, hot and hard and searing.

He felt Near's muscles sagging, and felt a wave of heat spring up between them. It was like Near was suddenly a human radiator. And then the little snowflake was doing what he was SUPPOSED to do: melting. Opening his mouth for Mello and pressing closer and generally submitting.

And that was when Mello's brain kind of turned off. He walked Near backwards until they hit the nearest available surface (a countertop, it turned out) and deepened the kiss, felt Near's tongue against his for the very first time.

Near was good at it. Too good. A faint part of Mello wanted to demand to know who he'd been kissing because no one was this good without practice. But asking would require talking which required the kissing come to an end, and that was an extremely undesirable circumstance.

On the ground, now placid and chewing at his index and middle finger, Junior watched the couple kiss and smiled. He cooed happily a few times, then turned away and crawled off.

Neither of the two seemed to have noticed. Mello lifted Near onto the counter by the hips, and his legs wrapped tentacle-like around Mello's waist.

And wasn't Near so willing? So pliant in Mello's arms? When Mello tilted his head just so, Near accommodated him. When he eased up and slowed down, Near matched his pace. When he grew forceful again, Near was right there, sliding his arms around Mello's neck and scooting forward - pressing their fronts together.

Mello growled softly into his mouth, wondering if Near could hear it and wondering what he would think about it if he did. Nothing bad evidently, because the only response Near gave was to tighten his legs around Mello's waist and continue kissing.

Mello slid his hands to Near's thighs, then upward, beneath his shirt, reveling in the soft, smooth skin.

Near pulled back, and Mello took advantage of the opportunity by aiming for his neck, nibbling and kissing to his throat.

"Perhaps," Near said, satisfyingly winded. "we're moving a bit fast suddenly."

Mello sunk his teeth gently into Near's earlobe and then paused to say, "No we aren't. We've been dating for months."

"But I thought you said-"

Mello glared down at him. "And YOU said we've been dating. Now do you have a problem with me wanting you or not?"

"...I don't have a problem with it, Mello," Near said, sounding as close to smug as Mello had ever heard him. He leaned forward again, as if he were trying to resume the kissing, but at the last second, he pulled back. He was looking over Mello's shoulder, eyes wide and searching.

"Mello...where is the baby?"

"What do you mean where is he?" Mello asked, turning around and gesturing toward the spot on the floor. "He's right over...WHAT THE HELL WHERE DID HE GO?"

"I don't believe that panicking is going to help," said Near.

Mello pried Near's legs off of his waist and bolted out of the kitchen. "Near! Help me, goddamnit! L can NOT HATE ME and he definitely will if I lose his fucking kid!"

Near followed him, truly hurrying, one of only about five times in his life that he had ever done so. The most obvious place to begin looking was the pile of toys in the sitting room but it proved fruitless. Mello was running about the house, ducking into rooms at random and yelling.

"He's not in any of the bathrooms! ...Not in the first floor guest bathroom! ...not in L and Light's room! NEAR, WE LOST L'S BABY, HE'S GOING TO HATE US FOR SURE!"

Near sighed, choosing to refrain from feeding Mello's panic and instead continued looking. Junior wasn't hiding in any corners...he wasn't under any of the tables...

Suddenly, Near heard the unmistakable purr of a car pulling up the driveway. Three seconds later, Mello was

flying down the stairs, taking them three at a time, boots clacking hard on every one. "Is that them? IS THAT THEM?"

Near moved with all the speed of a sea sponge toward the front windows. Mello nearly bulldozed him out of the way and tore back the curtain.

"IT'S THEM!" He whirled back toward Near. "You have to put on a diaper and pretend to be Junior! Maybe they'll never notice!"

"Mello," Near deadpanned. "You know perfectly well that I would never consent to that and they would never be fooled by it even if I did. Be reasonable."

"THERE'S NO TIME FOR REASON! They're fucking HERE and -"

But exactly what Mello intended to say never did come to light, because right then, the front door opened to reveal L and Light - back home indeed and looking pleasantly tired.

Mello let out a noise that sounded pathetically similar to a frightened mouse. "Hallo," said L, shuffling into the room. "How did it go?"

Mello squeeked again and shook his head. In the foyer, lit up by the overhead chandellier, Light's eyes narrowed as he came up behind L.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" he looked around. "Where's Junior?"

Mello tried to look intimidating, but it only made him feel queasy. Instead he reached out and pushed Near toward them. "Near has something to tell you."

Near felt like doing nothing of the sort. But he coughed and raised a hand to his curls and managed to start out with, "Well...the fact of the matter is...that is, the situation we find ourselves in is really..."

Light stepped in front of L now, eyes narrowed to the point of slits. "Where is he? Tell us right now."

Near reflected that Light Yagami really was frightening sometimes, and that it wasn't at all hard to remember that he was once the most prolific mass-murderer in human history.

"Oh God, something happened, didn't it?" Light went on, his voice rising with hysteria.

L touched his shoulder. "Light-kun, they didn't say-"

Light threw off his hand and pulled out his cell phone. "Exactly! They aren't saying! I'm calling the police!"

"Matsuda is on duty," said L.

"Damn!" Light smashed his phone closed. "Whatever you two freaks did, you WILL pay! You will-" He broke off, looking startled, and moved his gaze downward.

They all followed suit, and to Near and Mello's IMMENSE relief, saw Junior, clinging to Light's slacks and attempting to climb up them.

"Fa-fa," he burbled, foot sliding uselessly against the material of the pant-leg.

Light bent down in a flash, scooping Junior up and cradling him to his chest like he was a newborn.

"Junior, thank God you're alright." he babbled, kissing Junior's forehead again and again. "Where have you been? I..." then Light was whirling on Near and Mello again.

Mello actually took a step backwards.

"It's obvious that you didn't know he was there. How could you NOT know where he was? You LOST our SON?" He passed Junior to L before marching forward. "I'll have you CHARGED for that. When I get a hold of our lawyers, I swear to God -"

"Light." L grabbed the scruff of Light's shirt. "Do not make empty threats."

"Empty? EMPTY!"

"Empty," L said, his eyes hard and serious. "They are my protégé and as such it falls to me to handle this."

"What are you going to do? Give them hugs and chocolate and send them off with well wishes and an invitation BACK?"

"If that is what I feel is deserved," said L. He passed Junior back to Light and nudged him toward their room. "I'll be up in a minute. Please don't have an aneurism over this. It will solve nothing."

Light stared at L, calculating. Finally he nodded and left the room without another word. Junior seemed oblivious to any tension. He squirmed around in Light's hold, peaking up over Light's shoulder and singing "bye bye...bye bye..." to Mello and Near as he disappeared down the hall.

L looked back at the two standing before him and moved forward to give Mello's back a semi-forceful slap. "Mello, you are turning blue. I promise it's safe to breathe."

Mello let out a long breath, but his lungs still sounded tight with apprehension. "You hate us, don't you?" "I do not hate easily," L replied. "Now, just tell me what happened. It is simple as that."  
Mello nodded. "The... the truth. The truth is... the truth is we..."  
"We did lose Junior," said Near, promptly cutting off Mello's attempts.

Mello shoved at him. "No! I'm telling him! I'm confessing!"

"Then please do so. It's really not that difficult," said Near. "You're making it worse by delaying what should be a-"

"Okay, Near! Okay! I get it. God, do you always have to-"

"Mello, Near," said L, sternly and with much more force than usually. "Stay focused."

"We only lost him for about five minutes. The truth is that we went into the kitchen to give him some of those teething drops and we ended up making out like school girls all over your kitchen counter." Mello said this all in one breath, then took another and continued. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen and Junior was right there with us. I didn't realized he could crawl away so fast."

L looked at Near, who nodded once in acknowledgement.

L began to chuckle.

"You're... laughing?" asked Mello, sounding a trifle hopeful.

"Is that all?" L said. "No need to be so scared about it. It has happened to Light and I loads of times."

"I..." Near began, but trailed off, his lips curling into an uncertain smile. "Are you...really not angry with us? We both sincerely regret it and if there's anything we can do -"

L shook his head, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a candy. While he unwrapped it, he said reassuringly, "No no...everything is fine and no harm done. Next time, however, please do expend your personal activities beforehand."

Mello blushed.

"I'll go and calm down the criminal plotting your demise upstairs." L continued. "For now, you two get some rest. And thank you for watching the Dearest Heart for us."

Outside, Mello helped Near secure his helmet, then laughed. "And you look so sweet and innocent, but shit always happens when we're together."

Near attempted to twirl a strand of hair, but gave up when his hand knocked into the hard casing of the helmet. "And what does that mean exactly?"

"Well..." Said Mello, and swung a leg over his motorcycle. "At least I'm not dating a boring person."

Near smiled slowly and took the hand that Mello held out to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you thought!


	4. The Skirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Junior is under a bit of a misunderstanding....

**Junior: Age 16**

 

“Dad.”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Can I talk to you about something? Now?”

 

L looks up from his laptop, which is balanced precariously on the tops of his knees. Junior is standing before him, in the doorway of the study, looking so very much like Light that it hits L like a spark of electricity. His arms are folded across his chest, his hips are leaning against the doorframe in that particular Light-ish way, and even his eyes are narrowed in a way that is far too serious for a sixteen-year-old.

 

L nods, minimizes several browser windows, and sets his laptop on his desk.

 

He has a good idea what this will be about, and it will not be pretty.

 

(No matter that the whole thing will concern how very pretty _Light_ looked, a few nights ago.)

 

Junior steps into the study and plants himself into one of the squashy armchairs. He crosses his legs at the knee, tosses his bangs out of his eyes, and opens his mouth.

 

“I’m bringing this up with you now, while Father is at work, because you’re my dad, and I love you,” he begins. God, does he ever have Light’s inflections when he’s pissed about something. _Are vocal intonations genetic?_ L wonders.

 

“What a lovely sentiment, Dearest Heart.” He begins nibbling at his thumbnail. “But please, let us not forget that love is not necessarily the best motivator of one’s actions.”

 

“Yes, yes, I know.” Junior flicks his hand in the air as if swatting away an invisible bee. L has trouble keeping his smile hidden. He is so charmed by his offspring. “But in this case, it most certainly is.”

 

L nods gravely, playing along with the seriousness of Junior’s tone. He knows that his son has a fuse just as short as his husband, and the both of them are equally annoyed at not being taken seriously.

 

“I understand. Please, continue.”

 

He slides his coffee mug across the desk toward Junior, but he waves that away as well.

 

Junior sighs with a frustrated, short huff. “I don’t really know how to say this, Dad. You’re…you’re my dad! And you…” Junior sighs again.

 

“Whatever it is, Dearest Heart, perhaps it is best to simply speak the words outright.” L says. He admires his son’s bravery. Knowing what it is that Junior is trying to say, L appreciates the difficulty with which Junior must have arrived at the decision to get involved. It will be terribly awkward for him to bring up, but he will do it anyway, out of love and loyalty to Light.

 

It will be terribly awkward for L to _hear_ , but _he_ will do it out of love and loyalty to Junior. And to Light, by extension.

 

“There _are_ no words for this,” Junior mutters, looking down at his own legs. “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Then he looks up at L again, all of a sudden speaking clearly and forcefully. “I can’t believe _you_ are doing this!”

 

“And what is it that I am supposed to have done?” L asks. He takes his coffee mug back to his side of the desk and drinks deeply of it. This calls for much, much coffee.

 

“You’re…you’re….” Junior’s eyes are huge and black. They look at L with an imploring sort of anger.

 

L blinks at his son. If Junior is to say this, he will say it. L will not speak the words for him.

 

Junior grabs two fistfuls of his hair in each of his hands, pulling at it in irritation. “You know what I’m talking about! I know you do!”

 

“I’m afraid you shall have to clarify for me,” L says mildly. “I am not as young as I once was, and old men’s brains being what they are…”

 

Junior shakes his head at L, eyes still wide, though this time with incredulity. “Are you serious right now? You’re apparently not too old to…to….argh!” 

 

L simply stares candidly back at him, not saying a word. But Junior is far too much like his father, and L knows that feigned innocence is the quickest way to get a reaction. Even if that reaction oftentimes consists of alarmingly sour language and shattering china. 

 

“You’re having an affair!”

 

Somehow, when spoken aloud, the accusation is somewhat hurtful. Although L understands why Junior has come to this conclusion, and although he is proud of his deeply instilled sense of justice, it still hurts. Some part of him wonders how Junior could ever think him capable of such a thing.

 

Then again, both L and Light had never been in the habit of overlooking possibilities because the chances were slim. Quite possibly, the reason Junior is bringing this up at all is to be set straight. Perhaps the possibility of L being a cheater in Junior’s mind is only one percent. Or a half percent, at that.

 

Still maintaining his candid expression, he is able to inject something of puzzlement and surprise into the curve of his eyebrows. “And what, pray tell, has brought you to such a conclusion?”

 

“I found evidence! Hard evidence! …well…more like, frilly, short, black lace evidence, but evidence all the same!” Junior exclaims, gesticulating wildly at L.

 

L wonders where on earth Junior found the skirt. He and Light are not in the habit of leaving articles of a sensitive nature simply lying about the mansion. They both learned that lesson soon after Junior learned to crawl, and he happened upon a cock ring and decided it was a teething ring. Light was horrified, and had scrubbed Junior’s mouth five times with a toothbrush covered in Listerine. L had been mildly amused (it wasn’t as if Junior were going to _catch_ something, after all, and he certainly wouldn’t ever remember the incident, and it wasn’t as if the thing hadn’t been properly cleaned immediately after use, anyway).

 

From then on, all such objects were kept well-hidden and well-guarded: in a safe, actually.

 

“And Dad, honestly, you leave a thing like that just lying around??” Junior shouts. “I’m sorry, but for God’s sake! In Father’s house, no less??”

 

L sighs. “Junior, if I may - ”

 

“No. Dad, seriously. _Seriously_ , I don’t want to hear excuses. I just want to you _stop_ this whole thing. How could you do this to Father? He loves you! Don’t you care about him anymore?”

 

“Of course I do, Dearest Heart, and - ”

 

“Then how _could_ you? Don’t you care about _me_?”

 

“Of course I care about you, Junior,” L says. Has he been in some way deficient, to have Junior question his love so thoroughly? No….in truth, it is simply that Junior is his Father’s son, and he can’t let anything go of something that concerns him without getting to the bottom of it or doing something about it. L and Light have both been excellent parents. “I am not now, or ever have been unfaithful to your father.”

 

“Then why on earth did I find a black skirt in the kitchen this morning?!” Junior demands.

 

Oh. …that’s right. L is tempted to laugh outright. He and Light really did lose their heads, didn’t they?

 

L can’t help it. He cracks. The smile that appears is fleeting, and he quickly conceals it. But it is too late.

 

Junior shoots up from the chair, slams a fist down on the desktop. “You have the nerve to _smile_ about this? Has your whole life been nothing but a sick joke?” His voice is much higher than usual, outraged and incredulous. His black eyes are suddenly much brighter, wetter.

 

L holds up his hands, attempting to pacify Junior with the gesture. “Dearest Heart, you misunderstand my reasoning for—”

 

“There is _no_ reason, Dad! There is not any reason that anything about this should cause any reaction out of you besides guilt and shame!”

 

He looks to L like a vengeful angel, sent down from the heavens to smite him, hell-bent on vengeance. His chocolate-cake colored hair glows in the summer lighting spilling in through the French windows, like a halo of dark silk. His eyes flash so viciously they appear to be made of onyx gemstones. It is glorious.

 

“Keep your head, Dearest Heart. Do not act so rashly.”

 

Junior is breathing heavily, his jaw clenched. L gestures toward the chair again, but Junior remains standing. Before he is able to open his mouth again, L’s cell phone chimes. It is face up on the desk, next to the keyboard. The screen is large, and it is impossible to not see whom it is from.

 

Light.

 

_I can’t wait to be home with you, Candyman._

That is the name Light has always called L after sex. It is apparent that last night’s festivities are still fresh in his mind as well. L had been waiting for Light to have a moment at work to text him. Consequently, it meant that Light’s message screen was up.

 

Junior’s eyes had settled on the screen the same time as L’s. The pair of them met gazes again, and Junior looked more wrecked than any child of sixteen should ever have to look.

 

L sighs. There is _no_ way to explain this in any way that Light will approve of.

 

“Junior…I understand that this will be difficult for you to accept. But it is a matter in which you will simply have to trust me.”

 

Junior stares hard at L. “You always taught me to look to the facts first. And the facts I see are a skirt and you giving me _no_ explanation for its presence. I mean…I thought surely you’d be able to say that you were seeing some client who forgot her bag or…or…something! You needed a sample of a suspect’s clothes? Aunt Sayu came over and had to change in a hurry for some reason? _Something_!”

 

“Junior…in this instance, I must insist that you let the matter go,” says L, knowing his words will be futile.

 

“Dad, I _can’t_. How am I supposed to even _talk_ to Father, knowing about this whole thing? You expect me to just pretend everything’s fine? Just tell me you’ll _stop_ , and _then_ I’ll let it go!”

 

“Dearest Heart, there is nothing _to_ stop.” Especially not this particular game of theirs. Light’s legs are far too long and shapely to be kept continually covered.

 

Junior sighs deeply, deflating like a punctured balloon. “Dad…I love you, but if you aren’t going to stop this, I have no choice but to tell Father.”

 

He watches L for a few beats, during which L says nothing. It will do no good, at this juncture. Then Junior leaves. He looks more depressed than he did when his favorite conditioner was discontinued.

 

L picks up his cell and types a quick text to Light. Better to have him prepared than completely blindsided.

 

_Nor I, apple tart. But we have a situation concerning the Dearest Heart. He is well, do not fret – just too principled for his own good. I shall explain when you return._

* * *

 

 

When Light comes home, it is far closer to midnight than he would like. There was a violent breakout from a max security unit in the federal prison exactly eight minutes before he was due to clock out and head home. As the director of the NPA, this was not something he could simply dish out to his subordinates. With a rather loud curse that faded into a resigned sigh, he had text L:

 

_Another rotten excuse for a human being has impinged upon my ability to come home. Wait up for me._

He knew that L would be up anyway, given the nature of his ridiculous sleeping habits. But the idea of L waiting up especially for him was gratifying in its own way. L didn’t disappoint, promising that he would be waiting as loyally as a dog waiting for his master to return home. That, at least, got a laugh out of Light.

 _You are a dog, _he had text back, and hadn’t been able to check his phone again.

 

Now, he is so glad that he is finally home, he begins to loosen his tie as soon and he walks through the door. He knows that L wont be able to hear him if he shouts, so he simply makes his way up to L’s office, where he usually closes himself in while working on cases. Considering he had recently taken up a rather intriguing one, Light is sure to find him there.

 

And sure enough, there L is – sitting at his desk with his laptop in front of him and a cup of espresso at his right hand.

 

“Hey,” Light says with a smile. He leans against the doorframe.

 

L looks up immediately, eyes gleaming with something that, even after all these years, Light is unable to name. “Light-kun,” he says.

 

“The one and only,” jokes Light. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

 

L pushes the laptop and espresso cup to one side of the desk, chuckling darkly. He pats the top of the desk with the flat of his hand, then points at it. “Right here, Mr. Yagami-Lawliet, if you please.”

 

Light laughs, shaking his head. He sets his briefcase and coat on the nearest armchair before crossing the room to L.

 

“Does it ever bother you that I didn’t drop the hyphenation?” Light asks, taking a seat on L’s desk.

 

“Mmm, no, not at all.” L hooks his finger into the waistband of Light’s slacks and rolls his chair closer.  “It simply serves as a reminder that I do not detract from your life, only add to it.”

 

Light’s fingers are already in L’s hair, threading lovingly, almost possessively through the shining strands. Light had always loved L’s hair, always loved the wild feel of it against his skin.

 

He’s waited for this all day. Light doesn’t enjoy his work, even if he does get satisfaction out of it. Today had been worse than hell, and all he wants now is to let himself go. L is the only one who has ever been able to handle him in all his raw honesty.

 

Already L has him in a state and all he’s done is pulled Light down by the tie for a kiss.

 

“Where’s Junior?” Light forces himself to ask this, before he loses his head completely. L kisses him again before answering.

 

“He is asleep, Light-kun.” The kisses trail from Light’s chin to the side of his neck and back up to his earlobe. Light gasps when he feels the sharp graze of canines.

 

Light laughs, though most of it is breathy and sounds pathetically like a helpless whimper. His fingers are clenching L’s shirt collar and he can’t even remember when they had descended from his hair.

 

“He’s more and more like me every day,” Light says.

 

“I know. It is terrifying.”

 

“Are you truly horrified, L?”

 

“I have nightmares.”

 

Light doesn’t resist L pushing his knees apart. He welcomes it, locks his thighs around L’s waist. “And do they haunt you?”

 

“Every waking minute.”

 

“Fuck, L.” Light slides his hands down L’s torso and begins hastily undoing the button on his jeans.

 

L’s hands cup the backs of Light’s knees and _pull._ Suddenly Light’s perspective shifts: he is staring at the ceiling and is lying flat on his back on the desk.

 

He makes an “mmph” sort of sound, and L’s body covers his, trapping Light’s hands between their torsos.

 

“You realize that you texted me innuendo earlier today, do you not, Light?” L is murmuring into his ear.

 

“I seem to recall doing something like that, yeah,” Light agrees. _Undoing a jeans button should not be this difficult_ he thinks, fumbling. His work badge is digging into his clavicle at the moment but he is too preoccupied to pull it off.

 

“And do you recall that less than twenty-four hours ago,” L continues, mouthing at his neck. “You were bent over the kitchen sink?”

 

Light nods breathlessly at the memory. How L can drive him from zero to sixty in one second flat is beyond him. “I recall. It was you that had me there. …yes, finally.” He has at last had success with the button.

 

L’s voice is a low, intent purr. “And I shall have you again, Light-kun, mark my words.”

Then L’s hands are making quick work of his shirt buttons, and Light is thinking about where the closest stash of lube is in the house.  

 

Just as Light works his hand between the unzipped folds of L’s jeans, L’s tongue dancing a delicious pattern across his pulse point, an irritated “Ah-hem!” makes them both freeze in place.

 

Light tilts his head back and sees the upside down figure of Junior cross-armed in the doorway.

 

“Father,” he says, rather sternly. Or perhaps that was indignance. Light can’t really form coherent thoughts right now. “I need to talk to you.”

 

Light lets out an embarrassingly strong breath. He’s struggling not to pant. “Right now?”

 

The problem with Junior being so like Light is that they are so similar they sometimes rubbed along as well as sandpaper against beach sand. Really, Light wonders how he possibly did not see the outburst coming.

 

“Yes, right _now_! God, what are you, thirteen-years-old?” Junior says all this with a Kira face, and Light wonders if L can see it, too. “Can’t you control yourselves for one goddamn minute?”

 

“Language,” says L, moodily.

 

“I was talking to _Father_ ,” says Junior, full of a never heretofore heard callous disrespect, and, for the first time in his life, Light almost wants to backhand him. Almost, but no. Because he can see that Junior is genuinely upset about something. “I think he’ll want to hear what I have to say before this little tête-à-tête goes any further.”

 

Light sighs deeply. Moments like these made him nostalgic for the days when Junior was pre-speech. He cranes his neck up and kisses L on the mouth.

 

“I’ll see you in our room,” he says quietly, and L backs off of him, zipping up his jeans.

 

“Awww, you guys, come on,” Junior whines. Light sees him cover his eyes with one hand. “None of my friends parents are this…this…”

 

“Middle-aged, yet still devilishly good-looking and attracted to one another?” L supplies mildly. Light grins, buttoning his shirt.

 

Junior’s eyes are still hidden behind his hand. “Ugh, are you both decent yet?”

 

“We’re decent, Junior,” Light tells him, taking pity on the poor boy. He shudders to think of what it would have been like to walk in on his mother and father at Junior’s age. Thank God they were both rather conservative.

 

L and himself are not conservative. They are…well, there isn’t really a good word for it, but conservative certainly isn’t it.

 

Junior pulls his hand down from his eyes, impatient. L takes his time shuffling out of the room. He stops when he reaches Junior, tilting his head at him.

 

“Before I go…Junior, really, are you quite sure that - ”

 

“ _Yes_ , Dad. You aren’t talking me out of this.” Junior says all this very firmly, without looking in L’s direction.

 

“Well, then…good luck and good night,” L says, like he is signing off of some black and white, 1950s news program. He closes the study doors behind him.

 

Light decides that whatever this talk is that Junior is insisting on, it would be better if it were carried out while they were sitting. He takes L’s desk chair. Junior fairly _throws_ himself into the armchair in the corner. He ends up sprawled all across it, taking up as much space as a sixteen-year-old boy can take up, which is a lot, given that Junior has inherited L’s height, as well as his long arms and legs.

 

Straightening his hair as best he can, Light gives Junior a single nod. “Alright, son. What is it?”

 

Light has braced himself for this. He has anticipated more shouting, more disrespect. He has resigned himself to the likelihood that he and Junior will have a pretty heated argument if he isn’t able to keep a cool, level head. And he does not want to battle it out with his child. He wants L’s mouth on his earlobe again. On his neck. Everywhere.

 

Despite all indication to the contrary, Junior does not burst out in rage. Instead, he bursts out in tears.

 

Light hesitates for the second time that night, stunned. Junior is more on the effeminate side, it is true. He has always been a sensitive boy. But he is not prone to crying. Not, at least, since he was about four or five years old. Now, though, he’s curling up like a newborn, hugging himself with his arms and pulling his knees up to his chest in a manner so reminiscent of L, Light is almost knocked breathless at how much Junior had been like L as a toddler, and the realization that it has faded so much. He looks small and helpless, and so like that toddler of fourteen years ago that Light’s fatherly instincts kick into overdrive.

 

And suddenly, Light can feel the alarm bells sounding in his mind. L had told him earlier in a text that Junior was okay… but Junior clearly was anything but okay. Light has half a mind to tear into L about his falsities, but the other half of him was already calculating how long it would take to reach L and drag him back into this godforsaken room, whether Junior liked it or not.

 

“Junior…?” Light asks. L is so much better at dealing with tears than Light is. Light _sucks_ at tears. “Hey…what’s the matter? What’s going on?”

 

Junior doesn’t answer. If anything, he sobs harder.

 

Light is utterly at a loss. He figures, at the very least, that it would be worse to leave Junior right now to go and get L. So he gets up from the desk and sits on the edge of Junior’s chair, putting one arm around him.

 

“Son…really, whatever it is, you can tell me. Even if it’s about Nathaniel. I can’t promise I won’t want to rip his head off if he’s hurt you somehow, but…” Light says, trying for levity. (But really, he _will_ make that little shit pay if he’s done something to Light’s boy.)

 

Junior wipes his eyes, sniffling. “ _Sargie,_ Father, his name is _Sargie._ And no, it isn’t about him. He’s been great.”

 

“Then what’s going on?” Light asks. “Something at school?”

 

Junior shakes his head. “Nothing at school. School’s normal. It’s _here_.”

 

Light blinks. “Something here? At home?”

 

Junior nods emphatically. “Right _here_ is the problem.”

 

Light’s chest squeezes uncomfortably. Junior is unhappy at home? What does he need that he and L are not providing for him? Light has always thought that if anything could be wrong in Junior’s life, it would be outside the walls of this mansion, not _within_ them.

 

“What could be wrong _here_ , son?” Light asks. “You’re not happy here?”

 

Junior sighs deeply. He grabs a nearby box of Kleenex and blows his nose as delicately as he can. “Father…it’s not like that. I love you and Dad. God, _Dad_ , though…I can’t believe him!”

 

And Junior bursts into a fresh wave of crying.

 

Light is beyond bewildered at this point, and wonders if he is perhaps having a very peculiar dream. Light has always believed L to be Junior’s favorite parent. And now this?

 

“Hey….Junior, hey…it’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.” Light tells him, rubbing Junior’s back. He is trying to sound comforting and hopes that he is not coming off condescending instead. Jesus, he is not good with tears. “This is something about L? Did you two have a disagreement or something?”

 

Junior snorts derisively. “A _disagreement_? Ha! You could say that!”

 

“Son, it’s normal to—“

 

“Nothing about this is normal!” And Junior suddenly flings a pleated black skirt onto the floor, its lace trim embarrassingly visible against the soft cream-colored carpet. Before Light’s brain is able to untangle itself from the massive blow of humiliation, Junior is again catching him off guard, his words confusing and bold. “Daddy’s having an affair! I found this in the kitchen this morning!”

 

Slowly, Light puts the pieces together. “Junior,” he says, and gives a soft laugh.

 

“It’s not funny!” Junior screams. “What is wrong with you!?”

 

Light shakes his head. He knows this is probably the worst time to ask such a question, and yet it is nagging. “What makes you so sure this evidence is the result of your dad’s guilty doings and not mine?”

 

Junior wipes his eyes with the palms of his hands, sniffling. The look he gives Light is something of a cross between embarrassment and apology. “Well, Father, I mean... come on.” He gestures at Light, who realizes his legs are crossed in quite the lady-like fashion. He quickly unfolds them, but Junior has already moved on. “We all know if anyone takes a fancy to the female form around here, it’s Dad.”

 

Light sighs. He says wryly, “He certainly crows about old Hollywood starlets enough, doesn’t he?”

 

Junior nods sadly. “See? And I always thought he was just…you know…messing with you. And I mean…it’s not a crime to be like…bisexual, or whatever.” Junior shudders here, as if contemplating L’s sexuality is just too much for him right now. Or ever. “But this?” Junior flings one hand viciously at the skirt, lying not-so-innocently on the floor. “Father! The evidence is right in front of you! And you’re sitting there like nothing’s the matter!”

 

Light hopes his cheeks don’t burn red. Junior would be smart enough to put two and two together.

 

“Son, what you have to understand is that things like this are…private. And no, your dad’s not having an affair.”

 

“Father, _how_ can you _say_ that?” Junior demands. “Dad did the exact same thing earlier! I bring this whole sordid mess up to him and he acts like _I’m_ the one who’s being unreasonable!”

 

Light can easily see how L would be caught between a rock and hard place. And rather than reveal their…activities…the night before, he would try to reassure Junior without really giving him any explanation. What explanation is there to give? _Dearest Heart, you see, sometimes, in an effort to appeal to both sides of my tastes, your Father wears skirts and stockings and the occasional black high heel. It is perfectly normal. He surprised me in the kitchen last night, and in my haste to fuck him within an inch of his life, we forgot to remove all evidence of the encounter, as we normally would. I apologize in advance for the damage this knowledge may do to your psyche._

“Junior…I understand that you’re…concerned,” Light tries. “And believe me, I do appreciate your show of loyalty on my behalf. You’re the best son a father could ask for.” Light squeezes Junior’s shoulder. “But I must insist on you dropping the entire thing. I’m fine…L’s fine. Nothing’s the matter.”

 

“Father! If anyone on earth would disapprove of…of…of _swinging_ …I would expect it to be you! And you’re sitting here telling me that it’s _fine_ that Dad went off with somebody else?! I don’t care if it was for even one night! It’s not right, Father! He can’t do this to you!” Junior is absolutely beside himself.

“Let’s look at the logistics of this situation,” says Light. Logic always soothes Light when he’s distressed, after all. It is not a far-fetched idea that perhaps it would bring Junior peace of mind as well. “You found a skirt that appears to incriminate your Father, not your boyfriend. It’s a piece of evidence that incriminates my husband, not someone I could possible ever deal with sanely.”

 

“Exactly!” Junior wails. “So how—“

 

“Am I calmly able to sit here addressing this very upsetting topic with you?” Light supplies. “It follows logically that you do not understand mine and your Dad’s private life, as well you shouldn’t.”

 

Looking completely dumbfounded—heartbroken—wildly confused, Junior just stares, his mouth agape, his enormous dark eyes exact replica’s of L’s, staring back at him in utter, stupefied betrayal.

 

Patiently, Light continues. “Am I crying?”

 

Junior shakes his head, looking more mortified by the moment. Which is not what Light was going for, but he’s satisfied that the tears are subsiding, at the very least.

 

“Who’s crying?” Light prompts.

 

“I am.” Junior’s voice quavers, unsteady like a pond disturbed by the ruthless toss of a hard, unforgiving rock.

 

Light nods, and brings his original _logos_ back full circle. “And considering this discussion is about your Dad and not your boyfriend, you should have no reason to feel so upset, or so betrayed. After all, I would be the one who was being betrayed, am I am not crying.”

 

Seeming to have almost calmed down somewhat, Junior erupts again at that. 

 

"I HAVE a reason! He IS my dad, and so are you, and what kid wants their parents to break up? What kid wants their family destroyed over some harlot?" Junior stands up from his chair, looking down at Light. "You should know that, Father!"

 

Light sighs. Junior is as stubborn as...well. As stubborn as his fathers. 

 

"Yes, Junior, I see the point you're making, and perhaps I was unclear just now. I was only trying to say that the kind of betrayal most prominent here would be felt by me, not you, in this situation. And I'm fine. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this, and so you need to let it go."

 

Actually, 'reasonable' wasn't really the word for it. 'Hot at the time and afterwards embarrassing in the extreme' was more like it. 

 

"God, you're as bad as he is." Junior says viciously. "Are you doing the same thing with some guy out there, and that's why you're so okay with this whole thing?"

 

At this, Light's hold on his calm disintegrates. The tranquility he had been clinging to turns quickly into a cold anger. 

 

"Junior Winston Yagami Lawliet, you will apologize this instant for that or so help me God, you won't be seeing Nathaniel or anyone else for MONTHS, do you understand me?" 

  

“Apologize?” Junior seethes. “Apologize for freaking the fuck out that after sixteen years being preached at about monogamy, faithfulness, respect, and dignity by you people, I find out that neither of you practices _any_ of that? Then why bother spoon-feeding me bullshit beliefs? Hypocrites, the both of you! I can’t believe you’d risk our family, _your marriage,_ for something so disgusting!”

 

“You are completely out of line! We are your parents!“

 

“So what? I didn’t ask to be born! I’m here because of you!” Junior’s outrage can barely conceal the underlying motive for his insolence: betrayal and fear. “If you weren’t planning on your kid ever figuring shit out or challenging your vile disloyalty to each other, maybe you shouldn’t have used your own goddamned DNA to make me! I’m a consequence of your own actions!”

 

As angry as Light is at this moment, his heart swells to bursting with fatherly pride. This protégé is most certainly of his DNA. Such passion, such deeply-rooted beliefs, such integrity. His child will not bend his own moral compass even for him. He couldn’t be prouder if Junior had single-handedly rid the world of all criminals.

 

Light’s pride allows him to moderate his voice. And besides, one of them has to get hold of themselves. And it should be him. He’s the adult here, and the one not rattled with teenage angst and pubescent outrage.

 

“Yes, you are, Junior. We wanted you with all of our hearts, and we still do. And we wanted you because we loved each other that much. And we still do.”

 

Over the years, Light has grown more able to verbalize such sentimental truths. If he is still not quite _comfortable_ with it, he is at least _able_ to do so, and willingly. L has taught him the necessity of emotional honesty.

 

“Yeah, you just didn’t love each other enough to be faithful to each other. I’m sorry, Father, but my birth story is not all that inspiring when viewed in the light of reality,” Junior says bitterly.

 

“Junior, you don’t _understand_ , and you need to let it _go_ ,” Light tells him firmly.

 

Junior shakes his head, casting his eyes to the floor. He sighs harshly. “Let it go. Right. Don’t you realize that ever since I was little, I’ve _idolized_ you two? You’re my father. He’s my dad. Every little boy’s hero is his dad, and I was lucky enough to have two.”

 

Light swallows, trying to get control of the sudden tightness in his chest. His eyes sting.

 

“And now this? And I hear that you both want me to just let it _go_? No. _No_. I can’t and I won’t.”

 

Junior stares Light down like a matador in the ring, red flag in hand and absolute confidence in his eyes. He talks the way that L and Light have raised him to talk: with conviction and with courage.

 

“Things will never be the same, Father. Things will _never_ be the same. I always pictured you and Dad at my wedding, whenever that will be, and you both would be the spitting image of what a marriage should be. What _love_ should be, what it _can_ be. You guys fought a _war_ against each other, with literally the fate of the world hanging in the balance, and your _love_ for each other got you through it. How many people can say that? And now all of that is gone. Somewhere along the way, you lost what you had, and that’s heartbreaking. Or you never really had it, and that’s just even more - ”

 

“ _I_ was wearing the skirt, Junior!” Light suddenly shouts.

 

Junior shuts up.

 

“ _I_ was wearing the skirt, alright?” Light says again, demanding and obstinate.

 

“What do you mean _you_ were…wearing the…?” Junior asks, voice trailing off into nothing as the gears behind his eyes turn.

 

Light huffs. Junior has left him with no choice. The cat’s out of the bag, things will be hideously awkward between them for weeks, if not months, but hopefully _somewhere_ along the way they’ll be able to forget about this whole sordid mess. God, does L ever owe him. “Look, your Dad and I were in the kitchen, we forgot the skirt, you found it, you accused L of having an affair, he didn’t want to explain what _really_ happened so that he could spare your psyche and spare _me_ the humiliation, but what’s done is done, so there. It was me. Satisfied?”

 

Junior stares, completely stunned, for Light doesn’t know how many minutes. He can see his child processing this information; can see the variety of emotions spinning in his eyes, like the flick of a fortune wheel. Finally, he focuses back onto Light.

 

“Daddy’s having an affair with your female counterpart?” He finally asks, flatly at first, but with hope rising in each word.

 

“If that’s what you want to call it, Junior, yes. That female counterpart being nothing more than me in female clothing, and the affair nothing but a twisted game your Dad likes to play with me. Between the two of us and only the two of us. You know he has peculiar tastes, but that doesn’t mean he wants or even needs to stray in order to find satisfaction. That’s just one part of what makes a marriage fulfilling, Junior.”

 

Junior blinks, clearly processing this. 

 

"....are you, like, genderfluid?" he asks. There is nothing but plain curiosity in his voice. "Sometimes Sargie sounds like HIS dad is."

 

Light shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "I'm sure there isn't a word yet for Mihael Kheel's identity. But no, son. I'm male, in every sense, and L knows that."

 

Junior nods thoughtfully. Light is proud of his maturity, but slightly nervous at how COMFORTABLE Junior is with idea of sex play. He has the terrifying thought that Junior is experienced in such things, and then his brain comes to a screeching halt. It is a self-protective measure, lest Light lose what is left of his sanity. 

 

"....Father, next time?" Junior asks. 

 

"....yeah?" Asks Light. 

 

"You guys have GOT to keep this stuff from me. Seriously. Get like...a toy box." 

 

Junior immediately looks appalled at himself, eyes popping and jaw falling. He shudders violently. "That didn't come out how I meant it to. Forget I said that. I'm just-"

 

Light holds up a hand. "My brain has been bleached, and I have no idea what you're referring to."

 

Junior shudders again. "Thanks. ....I should apologize to Dad, huh?"

 

Light nods. "I think that's a good idea. I'm sure he's still awake."

 

Slowly, Junior stands. He still looks too relieved and too stunned to be properly embarrassed about this whole escapade. He turns, takes three steps toward the door, then backtracks. He touches Light on the shoulder, and Light is able to look up. He couldn’t possibly become more humiliated than he already feels, after all.

 

“I’m sorry, Father,” he says, softly. “I got so upset because I do believe so strongly in yours and Dad’s love, and in the integrity of your characters.”

 

“That’s very mature of you, son.” Light crosses an arm over his chest to reach up and pat Junior’s hand. When he leaves, the door closed snuggly behind him, Light collapses on the desk, cursing himself for having the audacity to sneak up on L in the kitchen of all places in an ensemble like that.

 

“Lesson learned, Yagami,” he mutters to himself.

 

* * *

 

L is sitting in the exact middle of he and Light’s bed. It is appropriately ridiculous, larger than even the largest king-sized bed. L’s taste in material goods is extravagant, or so Light has told him. He insisted on a four-poster (which Light did not veto, because in his heart of hearts, he _relishes_ L tying him up) and silk sheets. There is a laptop in front of him, and the scattered remains of several empty boxes of Hello Panda cookies.

 

He hears Junior approach before he sees him. L’s hearing is actually rather astounding in it’s scope. It is a fact that he attempts to keep hidden, so that his sense of sound is underestimated. Easier to use something to your advantage when the other party does not expect you to.

 

“…Dad?” Junior calls hesitantly, poking his head around the doorframe.

 

“Come in, Dearest Heart,” L says to him. He can already hear the apology in Junior’s voice.

 

(Which leaves no doubt as to whether or not Light has chosen to explain the root of the entire misunderstanding. L hopes that he will still be amenable to wearing the skirt.)

 

Junior strides in, making a strong effort to appear confident. His eyes, however, and the way they do not meet L’s, give him away.

 

“Dad, I….Father explained everything and I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Junior says very formally. L is about to answer that of course all is forgiven but Junior has more, apparently, to say. “I’m so sorry, Dad! God, I was such an ass to you. You’d have every right to disown me.”

 

His eyes well with tears.

 

“Dearest Heart,” says L, and pats the spot next to him. Junior immediately obeys. L waits until Junior is settled in and leans his head against his shoulder to speak again. L wraps his arm around him.  “I married the prime suspect of the biggest, most disastrous case the world has ever seen. I’ve forgiven him and I trust him completely. Now, what makes you think that I would want to disown you for standing up for that very relationship?”

 

“I don’t know,” he says, helplessly. “I just feel like a terrible son. Of course you and Father would never betray our family. I knew that… and yet… and I…”

 

“Could not let it go because you had cold, hard evidence to the contrary.”  L gives Junior a brief squeeze. “You cannot help it, Dearest Heart. You are a Lawliet. It is in your blood.”

 

L feels Junior smile, the curve of his cheek pressing into the top of his shirtsleeve.

 

“Do have some Hello Panda cookies,” he continues, indicating a package that has only been half demolished. “It will help you to feel better.”

 

Junior picks up the package and nibbles on a few of the cookies. L remembers the first time he ever tried one, before all of his baby teeth had even come in. L had crushed it into tiny bits, and Junior had been kicking his legs in excitement over the taste.

 

“Thanks, Dad,” Junior says. “I think I’m going to bed now. I couldn’t sleep earlier.”

 

He doesn’t need to clarify why.

 

L nods. “Goodnight, Dearest Heart. We shall see you in the morning.”

 

“Goodnight, Dad. Tell Father I said goodnight too.”

 

And with that, Junior leaves, steps quite a bit lighter than they were when he came in. L hears his bedroom door close with a soft _click_.

 

Light enters not long after. His expression is one of rueful discomfiture.

 

L chuckles at it. “Are you going to survive, Light-kun?”

 

“No, L,” Light says flatly, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to throw up and then I’m going to pass out, and after that, I won’t be able look Junior in the eye for weeks.”

 

“There, there, Light-kun,” L says. “It could have been worse.”

 

Light snorts. “How is that?”

 

“Well…” murmurs L. “the Dearest Heart could have witnessed the proceedings as they happened.”

 

“Oh dear God,” Light mutters. “Are you _trying_ to put me off sex completely?” He exchanges his slacks for a pair of pajama bottoms, brushes his teeth in the adjoining bathroom, and then fairly collapses into bed, falling on top of the blankets next to L.

 

“Light-kun, we both know that nothing could put you off sex completely whilst you are in my presence,” L says smugly. He shuts the laptop and pushes it aside, lying down next to Light and pulling him into his arms.

 

Light shifts around, making himself comfortable. “Watch yourself, Lawliet. There is such a thing as overconfidence, you know.”

 

“Why Miss Yagami,” L replies. “That isn’t what you said last night. I recall there being much moaning and begging and -”

 

“Goodnight, L." Light cuts him off.

 

“-and a good deal of panting and praise of my stamina -”

 

“ _Goodnight_ , L.”

 

“- and more whimpers and cries for more than you quite knew what to do with -”

 

“L, stop, or the skirt burns.”

 

L stops.

**Author's Note:**

> More to come! Please let us know what you think! Kudos and comments always welcome!


End file.
